


Bring me back to life

by aSongofFire



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Daenerys nows everything (s1-8), Daenerys thinks what every fan thought during season 8, Everything Leads to Jonerys, F/M, I don’t wanna spoil everything!, It’s not a fix it! It’s my way of processing s8, Jonerys, Jonerys Endgame, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon Fix-It, VERY VERY VERY slow burn, daenerys is not a mad queen, dragons are intelligent, everyone acts logical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22735636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aSongofFire/pseuds/aSongofFire
Summary: [Warning! I‘m no native english speaker. My english isn’t good]Bran is king. Sansa is queen. Jon is at the wall. The wildlings are north of the wall. And Drogon took is mommy away from the ungrateful land he and his family saved.———————————————————Daenerys answers injustice with justice (AFTER the *long* prologue!)„The North won’t kneel to any invader/you.“„You want us to bend the knee?“„I don’t want you to kneel. You won’t see anything on your knees with your eyes on the ground. Look at the sky, instead. And Watch me, as their queen, when I burn your kingdom to the ground.“ [Doesn’t mean she‘ll do it!!!] ~ Chapter 12
Relationships: Daenerys/Daario (somehow/not really), Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen (main!)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay first of all: everyone who enjoyed, loved or even liked season 8, please, don’t read this. You won’t like this fic and I don’t need your negativity. (Sorry but it’s the last warning if the tags are not enough)  
> My life is negative enough.  
> I won‘t love the Starks (especially not Sansa!) and I wont give this „mad queen-plot“ any place in here! But everyone goes through a lot of things in here.
> 
> It’s a story where my favourite characters aren‘t done dirty and where I can let my frustration go by hating on everyone who acted dump and stupid and .... I don‘t know
> 
> Never the less: fuck D and D and the the whole season 8  
> Me and my story are going to rip everyone into pieces! *droping microphone*
> 
> Suggestion: This is the only chapter like this, but read the parts with the character voices and think about the scenes in the series...
> 
> I‘m sorry for my english, but it’s not my native language (so the grammar will probably be like shit. Hopefully you understand the story anyway)

„Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar, the first men and of Mereen. Lost aloe and betrayed she returned from the land in the west. But her fire has never fully gone out. Oh, Lord of Light shine on her again. Return the stallion who mounts the world to the living. Let all the small candles who tried to replace her see that nothing can replace the the fire of the sun. Lord of Light bring your servant sick to life. She trusted and was betrayed. She was the blood of the dragon. Oh, Lord of Light cast your Light upon us and Daenerys Targaryen won’t do that mistake again.“

——————————-

Missandei: „Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen...the Khalessi of the great grass sea...“

Drogo: „Japan atthirari anni (Moon of my life)“

Dosh Khaleen: „The stallion who mounts the world.“

Missandei: „The mother of of dragons. ...“

Dany: „The dragons are my children...“ 

„Viserion?“ 

**[Viserion roars painfully and breaks into the ice]**

„Rhaegal?“ 

**[Rhaegal falls into the ocean roaring]**

Dany: „They are both gone now.“ „...and they are the only children I‘ll ever have.“

Mirri Maz Duur: „Until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow.....“

Missandei: „...the unburnt...“

Viserys: „You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?“

Dany: „I am the dragons daughter!“

Missandei: „...the breaker of chains.“

Dany: „I‘m not going to stop the wheel. I‘m going to break wheel.“

Tyrion: „If you die, whe‘re all lost.“

Tormund: „To the dragon queen!“

**[nothmen cheer]**

Jon: „Make them see they made a mistake...make them understand.“

Jorah: „You believe in anything?“

Missandei: „We believe in her.“

Jonah: „I will never abandon you.“

Dany: „And I swear to you, that those who would harm you will die screaming.“

Cercei: „What good is Power if you cannot protect the ones you love?“

Missandei: „Dracarys!“

Varys: „I wouldn’t expect anything else from the mother of dragons.“

Dany: „I will not attack Kingslanding. We will not attack Kingslanding.“

**[Elaria Sand and her daughter scream in the dark cells]**

Jon: „Have you been down there? Have you seen?“

Dany: „It is not easy to see something that has never been before. A good world.“

Jon: „How do you know it is good.“

Dany: „Because I know.“

Little girl: „Mysa.“ Mereneese: „Mysa!“

**[screaming people in Kingslanding]**

Jorah: „What have you done?“

Dany: „I‘m not doing nothing again.“

**[Drogon hisses]**

Orlenna: „They won’t obey you unless they fear you.“

Cercei: „Everytime a Targaryen is Born the gods flip a coin. And the world hold its breath.“

Jon: „I don’t want it.“

Varys: „I‘m quite certain about yours.“

Jon: „She is my queen.“ 

„They all come to see you for what you are.“

Tyrion: „You slaughtered a city.“

Dany: „I‘m not my father.“

Selmi: „He has set their houses and castles aflame.“

Orlenna: „You‘re a dragon...“

Tyrion: „But you are not a monster...“

Dany: „Drogon!“

**[Drogons painfully scream]**

Cercei: „Love no one but your children.“

Orlenna: „...be a dragon.“

Tyrion: „I know this because I have seen it.“

Jorah: „Khaleesi!“

Elaria: „It’s not survival I offer. It’s your hearts desire.“

Tormund: „You can never be a kneeler again.“

Robert: „There is a war coming...I don’t know when, I don’t know who. But it’s coming.“

Elaria: „Vengance.“

Dany: „I‘ll answer injustice with justice.“

Daario: „I hope you get the throne you want so badly. ...“

Jon: „I don’t want it.“

Daario: „...I hope it brings you happiness.“

Jon: „You are my queen. Now and Always.“

**[ A man sobs and a dragon roars in the distance]**

And with her last memory Daenerys Targaryen opened her eyes to the world again.


	2. "Keep them alive in memory" - Jon Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 305 A. C.  
> A couple of weeks after season 8 (😖)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay it’s been a long way and it’s probably not good and very depressing (but it has to be) but this is my first story and translating is harder than I thought it would be.  
> (Sorry for my english again!) 
> 
> Don’t like don't read :)

** 305 A.C. **

There he was. The last watcher on the wall kneeling in front of the only heart tree in the north, surrounded by snow and the feeling of four attentive eyes staring at his back. It has been almost five weeks since he rode with the wildlings into his freedom. But it didn’t last long of course. He just helped build the first village for a few of them while the rest rode further north to find a better place, as a couple of northmen arrived and escorted him back to the wall. Eastwatch by the sea, where more of them were about to build a new castle in the whole of the wall. 

The only member of the nights watch was nothing more than a better prisoner. He had his own sleeping chambers in a tall tower, and got enough food. But he couldn’t leave the new castle. He wasn’t allowed to go south, nor could he ride north to visit the wildlings. He wasn’t even allowed to ride a horse in case he would try to escape and so he walked while his guards rode. The only reason why they let him go to the weirwood tree was because he let them believe that he needed to pray to the old gods. Not that he had to, but Jon was about to go crazy in this stupid castle. But even when he was ‚praying‘ they never let him out of their sight.

Just now he could hear their complains about the weather and the cold but Jon felt no sympathy towards the men. How could he. They kept him like a prisoner but kept telling him that they were the new Nights Watch.  There was no reason to rebuild the Nights Watch. The White Walkers are gone, just like the Night King, and the Wildlings won’t attack them anymore to pass the wall. 

Light Snow was falling down, around the red leafs of the weirwood tree. He didn’t know for how long he‘s already been kneeling here. But he couldn’t feel his knees anymore. He was sitting on his legs in front of the fallen tree where his crossed hands rested. Above his head stared the cold face of the weirwood tree in the distance. Red tears running down itswhite cheeks...

And then he heard something move behind him. When Jon looked above his shoulder he recognized the red thick hair and the typical northern clothing.

„You think way to much my friend.“, the big giant yelled while he was walking through the knee deep powder snow towards him.  „Your brothers are already bored. Ha!“

Every now and then Tormund came to visit while passing the wall. He stayed a few hours, or over night, and rode south towards Winterfell. 

But he saw enough of the northmen to know that they were not his brothers. They were no brothers of the Nights Watch. They didn’t even want to be here, nor did they spoke their vows. They didn’t wear anything black only their armors with their family signs on the breastplate. They were here on purpose. Because Sansa wanted them to be here. 

Jon couldn’t compare them to his old brothers. Grenn, Pyp,...Sam...but they are all gone now. He was truly the only man on the wall who wore the typical black clothes. The last watcher on the wall...  And every now and then when he realized that he felt a little bit more alone. 

They are here. Just like him. And he can tell that they are just waiting for his death so that they can go home.  And if Jon was honest he couldn’t wait for his death neither. Sometimes at least. 

Tormund took a seat beside Jons arms on the fallen tree. His back facing the weirwood tree while he never lost a sight on the two northmen. „I never knew you believed in the gods existence.“, he began quietly. Only for them to hear. It was unbelievable how changeable his voice could be.

Jon was always happy that his friend visited him before he returns to his people. But it always reminded Jon that he was not free. That there was no reason for him. Not anymore. 

And all he could do, was to smile sadly at Tormunds ignorance about Jons situation... Sansas doing. 

„I don’t.“  Jons voice was barely a whisper, but there was no other sound north of the wall. No people. No wild animals. Only the forest and snow and nothing more. Well, and his two guards standing in the forest only a few feet away from them. So Tormund had no problems to hear him. 

„Then...why are you praying?“

„Because of ... I-“, he took a deep breath „I have ...“ and swallowed against his dry throat. Still struggling to find the right words for Tormund to understand. „I have to believe that...that there is something.... A world or a life after thedeath. And not what I‘ve seen... or anything like that...Because if there is nothing...it would mean that I ... I sent her to the exact same place, the darkness, the nothing... where I had been.“ 

Jon lowered his head and waited for anything Tormund maybe wanted to say. But nothing came. And so both listened for a moment the talk of the northmen in the distance. 

But then Tormund put his hand on Jons shoulder and he looked up at his friend. „You love(d) her. That’s okay, normal...probably. And I understand your sadness and that you need your time to mourn her death...and you took your time, Snow.“ He didn’t know what to say, but the red giant continued. „But everytime I came here since... . Anyway...it never became less. I know you love her but tell me...“ Tormund paused. He knew this is a tender topic for Jon, but every time he passed the wall and visited him on his way, they only talked around this one single question. Although he never asked, until now. „... If you truly loved her so much, how could you kill her?“ Jon only lowered his head again but didn’t say a word. 

The silence was huge between them but Jon made no efforts to answer. Or do anything else than staring at his interwined hands. 

Tormund put his hand off of Jons shoulder. Instead he leaned with his elbows on his spread thighs. „Jon...talk to me. Talk to anyone. And I know you don’t wanna hear it, but I‘ll be the only one you can talk to here.“ 

He was right. He had no one to talk to. 

All he could do was thinking. He was alone with his thoughts. And he thought about her, about Daenerys, her last moments, the ship...anything and everything. And when he wasn’t about to drown in his self pity he felt lost in his thoughts about his family. Why would they forget him? He knew they had their own lifes but he heard nothing. Arya had left Westeros but even after that Sansa never tried to contact him. No ravens, no questioning of Tormund about her brothers, or cousins, well being...

And he always asked himself if they had already forgot about him. 

„I...“

„And don’t tell me anything about your pressures litte family you had to protect. You saved them, that’s okay, that’s good, but who‘ll save you now?“  He stood up. „I mean look around.“ He spread his arms and looked around. „They are not here! No one. Not your brother, not your sister, not even the one you liked so much.“ He let himself fall back on the tree. His loud voice silenced Jons guards and took their attention.  „What?!“

Jon didn’t need to see the guards turning around at Tormunds question. And he couldn’t hide a small smile. Tormund was the only Wilding or man Jons guards let pass the wall. Thanks to Sansa most likely, the guards couldn’t do anything against the giants rough nature. And he knows this... 

Sometimes he was loud. And sometimes he could be silent. Just like now. Tormund leaned to his side to Jon and said gently „The dead don’t need love, only the living.“

„And what are the living worth if you cannot miss the dead?“ Jon looked up. But this time Tormund didn’t back off. He was careful with Jons feelings all the timebut not now. He knew that he won’t take the next step. Not without a little push.

„Don’t lie to yourself, Snow. We both know you don’t just miss her.“ Or a hard push.

„No, I don’t.“

„Death doesn’t let you say goodbye.“ Jon didn’t know what to say but Tormund continued „And even if you are not ready you’ll have to move on. I can’t watch you torture yourself. You are not the Jon Snow I wanted to follow. You have to let her go.“

„You don’t have to follow me anymore.“

„Stop this self-pity. Seriously, for both of our sakes. ...She is dead! Let her go ... and move on.“

„I don’t want to! And stop talking to me like I‘m some child.“ He got up and winced as his knees crackled and the blood rushes back into his feet. Tormund stood up too but stayed calm. 

„Jon-“ 

„No!!“ They were both surprised at Jons voice and stared at each other for a moment. The silence was huge between them. All they could hear were the guards whispering between the trees. „Sorry...I...I don’t- I never-...“

„Jon, everything is alright...just...just breath.“ 

He did as told. He had no angry outburst since the throne room. Although he wasn’t shure if it was an outburst then or something else...

„Rearrange your words....“ 

„Mhm...“

„And speak.“

„I want to... I‘m afraid when I accept that fact that I never hear her laugher again or feel the softness of her skin... I forget her. And I don’t want to forget her. I don’t want to replace her with any other other woman. How?“ He smiled sadly. _How could anyone ever replace her?_ „I don’t want anyone else. Never again.“ The words came out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop them. And he couldn’t take them back.

„As I said I understand. You are not the only one who lost people you love-“

„No I did not just lost her. I killed her! I-.... I murdered her like a fool without thinking through it. Maybe she would have been a good queen. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she never intended to massacre an entire city! Maybe I‘m just the biggest piece of shit that ever walked on earth. Maybe she doesn’t want me to miss her after everything I had done to her, but I do it anyway. Because I don’t know what else I can do but I also don’t want to do anything else! I stabbed her! I murdered her!! And I-“ Tormund stayed calm the whole time, while Jons voice became louder and louder and his tears started to fall.

And then he stopped yelling, gasping, trying to take steady breaths and not breaking down.

And as his eyes met Tormunds again, his friend asked: „Then answer my question: Why did you kill her?“

** ^*^ **

It was always the same question. And he answered always in the same way. He said nothing. There was no answer. 

It was the right thing. The woman in the throne room wasn’t Daenerys. She was not Dany. It couldn’t had been her. It was the right thing! But why does it feel so wrong then? Why does he feel like he made the wrong choice? 

He opened the door to his chambers. The fire has gone out but it was still warm and beneath the open window was a small area of melting snow which had flown inside. 

When he looked up Jon felt his heart stop. He immediately recognized the long silver hair and the white fur dress. 

She didn’t look at him, he only saw her back...Jon didn’t know what to do at first. Why was he here? How could she even be here? Why? How? Why did she come back to him? Jon was shure he was the last person she’d want to see... there must be another reason. 

His first instinct was to take his sword out but as she turned around and faced him...she smiled.

Just like she always did...she just smiled. And her eyes shined as she smiled. Her hands....as he looked down on her she held a small dragon figure in her hands. Just like Jon had one when he was a boy. He looked at the toy for a moment, watching her fingers glide along the wings down its spine... And when their eyes met again he couldn’t stop himself from walking towards her, and she didn’t back off. But her smile grew bigger and she placed the figure back on the shelf behind her. 

His steps quickened and he didn’t even noticed. She turned back around right on time to be pulled into a tight hug. „Dany...“, was the only thing he could suppress at the moment overwhelmed by just her presence. 

It felt like he can fly... when she returned the hug and put her small hands on his back.

He completely forgot about his sword, the reason why she was here or how this was even possible....she was here. That’s all that matters. 

He pulled back but just enough to look at her face. To see the life in her eyes. The colour in her cheeks and the red nose. His hands wandered from around her neck to her cheeks and again she didn’t back off...or pulled away. And then .... his lips were on hers and he kissed her. Like he always used to .  Like he always wanted to since...the day. Often he thought about the feeling of her lips, her hot breaths, her moans,...but no memory could compare to this. And he couldn’t put in words how much he missed her, this, this feeling of her and being around her. 

But as good as it felt as quick was the kiss was over. But he didn’t end it. It was Dany who lowered her head and whimpered...

It was this moment when Jon realized what he just did. He kissed his aunt. His family in a romantic way. Though it was his first impulse, that came to his mind....after all the questions.

But those were long forgotten and now replaced by her ... completely. 

What was wrong with him?! You shouldn’t feel this way for your own blood! ... but that’s how Targaryens were doing it, wasn’t they. What was wrong with it then?

And there it was again. This disappointed look...she didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve this. If there are truly gods how can they be so cruel? Why did they fashioned people for love when it’s so-

Suddenly Jon felt a light pull on his arm when Daenerys carefully tried to brush Jons hands off and put some distance between them. But Jon didn’t let go of her. He didn’t want to...he just couldn’t. Not this time. He still held her close and after she realized he wouldn’t let go she stopped and looked up hesitantly.

„I’m sorry...I’m so so sorry,...I don’t know what’s the matter with me. What- ...why-“ There were tears in his eyes he didn’t notice until his sight got blurry.

This time she was the one who moved closer. Does she want to kiss him? Should he kiss her again? But Daenerys only pulled him on his neck down and brushed the fallen tears off his cheekbones. Tears he wasn’t aware he shed. „Dany...“ But she just looked at him and smiled sadly. He lowered his head until their foreheads met. How can she be so mesmerizing by not even saying a word? Her whole being? He still couldn’t believe it.

And the first time for a long time he felt piece. He never imagined being this calm by just standing here in this place he learned to hate and listening to the sound of their breaths. He didn’t know for how long they had been like this, but long enough for him to close his eyes. 

But their piece was disturbed by her surprised gasp and the broken connection of their foreheads.

Firstly Jon had no idea what’s wrong until she looked up at him again with watery and scared eyes. 

And then he saw it. His hand on a blade...in her lower stomach and hot blood running down his knuckled to his fingers. In shock his eyes widened and he pulled the blade out. Daenerys moaned, the sound was full of pain...and her hand went to her stomach pressing on the wound. 

Jon stumbles backwards...away from her. How did this happen? This wasn’t supposed to happen! How could this happen?! Appalled he threw the blade away and froze while he stared at Daenerys. Her hand didn’t stop the bleeding. The red fluid dropped between her fingers into the white dress and on the cold stone floor... There was just so much blood and it didn’t stop. 

He saw the pain in her face when she tried to keep standing up straight. She barged against the shelf behind her and the dragon figure fell into the red puddle and before Daenerys could fall forward Jon ran back towards her and caught her in the right moment. He wouldn’t let her lie on the cold stone floor. Not this time at least. His bloody hand pressed on her red one trying...helping her to stop the bleeding. But he could feel her losing hold on his shoulder as her knees bucked away. Jon took both of her arms and put them around his neck...all he could do was holding her. „Dany...I- I don’t know...I don’t...Dany!...what’s...“ Her painful soundsechoed in his head...but she said no word.

„Jon! Jon are you alright? Jon! JON!!“, a sudden pain flowed though his face and when he opened his eyes he recognized the blue eyes in contrast with the red thick hair.... „Are you alright. Sorry for the slap, but you didn’t woke up and you looked you you were in pain and I just wanted to say goodbye before I leave and then you...Jon? Jon, what’s wrong?“ 

He couldn’t answer...Jon didn’t know why. Was he really lying in his bed? His head was empty and the memory of the hot blood on his hand was the only thing that was burned into his mind... but when he looked at his fingers, his palm...there was no blood. Nothing. And all the pain and relieve...was nothing more than just a fucking dream. The looked to the side and there was no shelf left of his bed, neither was there his old dragon figure...

„Jon.“ his friends voice sounded worried now, which was mirrored by his face expression.

„I don’t know why I killed her...“ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is inspired by all the memes, critics and tweets of fans around the world and after almost a year I write this
> 
> So thank you to everyone oft there on Twitter and Instagram


	3. „She‘s alone,...No family to guide her or protect her.“-Aemon Targaryen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 305 A. C.  
> A couple of months after season 8 (🤢)

Meereen was completely dark under the night sky. At this hour not a single light burned in the homes or in the streets, there were only small lights of fires on the the city walls which gave glimpse of the borders of the city... 

But even when the city was in the dark her private chambers in the top of the pyramid were covered in bright light of three fire places and a lot more candles than she could count. 

Her city was a beautiful view. Well, not her city, not anymore after Daario made shure the people of Meereen chose their new leaders, but it was still a peaceful city. That was the first thing Daenerys Targayen noticed after her return, the calming effect it had on her. Peace and silence...or at least the closest thing she‘ll ever get to silence...

She was leaning on the headboard of her messy bed and barely covered her naked body with her thin white sheets. And even if the air was warm she kept a part of the sheets to cover her heart. Maybe to keep Daario from asking about the scar and starting this topic again or from keeping herself of thinking about it...but sadly she couldn’t cover her problems that easy. A few months ago her hair would have covered her chest, but now it was to short to even reach one of her breasts. In the moment she cut it, it seemed like a good idea but the moment wasn’t the best make a choice like that...

But not now. She pushed all these thoughts in the back of her head where they couldn’t bother her, at least for now, and took in the sight in front of her instead.

The leader of the second sons was truly a hell of a sight. His muscled back and wide shoulders and as her eyes wandered the further south... she bit on the nail of her thumb. 

Daario Naharis looked above his shoulder and grinned when he noticed her look. „Want more?“ He was standing on the other side of the room, pouring wine for them both while Daenerys examined him, before he returned and sat back down on the edge of the bed by her side.

Nonetheless his stupid smirk made her grin. She put the finger out of her mouth and grabbed the goblet full of wine.

„Maybe.“ Her teasing answer only made his grin grew wider. Yes, that was Daario...

They toasted and took a mouthful of the dornish red. Daario had already finished with just one sip but Dany swallowed one time and one more and then another until her goblet was almost empty.

„Hey, hey careful.“ he said, took the goblet and put it down on the ground beside the bed alongside his own. „...You know why.“ She swallowed her previous sip and nodded halfhearted. „How are you feeling?“ 

_ Not again _ ... That was the one question he kept asking her almost every day. And for one time she was glad that there was no one else who could ask her that. It was just annoying and she gave up in pretending that it wasn’t. So the only thing she did was to rolling her eyes and fall back until her back hit the headboard again. „Daenerys-“

„Not now Daario.“ With that she pulled the blanket over her body and kept it with one hand on her chest. Daenerys definitely needed more wine for this conversation and so she leaned down, took the goblet from the ground and swallowed every last drop. But he took it away from her and looked at her in that concerned way he never looked at her before she had set sail to Westeros. He barely remembered how he was before that, but this side of him didn’t help her...even if he tried.

„Not now? When, Daenerys? You have to talk to me. You have to look at me.“ He got up and walked around the room, still with her goblet in one hand until he stopped and leaned with his strong arms on a old box on the foot end of her bed. „What happened to you in Westeros?“

„You know what happed.“

„I want to hear it from you. All I know is that you returned one night. You jumped of Drogons back and never talked a word. You didn’t even let me touch you, or anyone, for almost four months.“ He put down the goblet in the box but kept his gaze on her. 

„Daenerys, what happened? Where does this come from.“ he pulled the blanket down to reveal her scar under her heart. The one thing she tried so hard to forget just like the man who did this to her.  There was no reason to keep holding it up, Daario has already seen it, and so it just fell down and bared her chest. „Where at your dragons? Whee is Jorah? Missandei? Grey worm?“, he looked into her eyes desperately as if that would make her tell him everything. But it didn’t. How could she talk about it when she isn’t able to say it out loud or even think about it without breaking down or drinking herself to sleep. She didn’t tell anyone. Not even about-

It was just too painful. „You came back one rainy night. With your hair cut... Daenerys, Dothraki cut their hair when they were defeated. Who def-“

„You should go. Leave me alone.“ she pulled the sheets back up and turned her head away. 

„No. No, you answer me first.“ 

„I‘m still your queen! Do never forget that, Daario Naharis.“ she glared at him, holding tight in the blanket around her. 

„I don’t. I swore to protect my queen. Even from herself. So please answer me, please Daenerys.“

Daenerys bowed her head, she couldn’t look him in the eyes. ... and she couldn’t give him the answers he wanted though she tried. But it was just too painful. Maybe it was too early although it had been almost a year since-...since...

„Please..“ She hated that word. 

_ Jon: „Please Dany“ _

„You want your answers? Then go. Walk through the streets, go to the portand ask the tradesmen of Westeros. The people will talk...they all do.“

„Daenerys, what-“

„I lost them! Is that what you wanted to hear!?“, she turned her head and eyes away from him to hide her tears.  _ Not now .  _ _Not now!_ She was staring at the stars and the black sky but she couldn’t keep her tears from falling.  _Not now_...  „Now, go.“

She didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes at the night sky. Maybe he took it to far he thought while he got dressed. Daario was about to say something but when he saw her wet eyes in the light of the candles and he decided it was time to leave. And even though she couldn’t see him he bowed his head and left her chambers. 

She has always been like this since her return. At one moment they could have fun like in the good old times and then there were this moments where she pushed everyone away from her or just cried or drank way too much wine. These phases became less in the last few month but they were still there. He tried to help her, he really tried but she wouldn’t let him. Why the fuck wouldn’t she let him help her?! Why is she just so stubborn!?

„Daario...we received an answer.“, when he turned and saw one of his men approaching him he took a deep breath and tried to ignore what just happened back in her chambers. „They’re on their way.“

„Good.“

The vision of the stars and the black night has already been blurred before Daario left but she refused to blink, her eye lids would just push more tears down. Just as she heard the door shut she closed her eyes and felt the first few tears on her cheeks. 

She lost them. Ser Barristan, Viserion, Jorah... Rhaegal...Miss-

Dany pulled the blankets above her whole body and head, her legs where pressed to her stomach... completely hidden under the blanket. Daario was just here, with her, in her bed but it still felt so cold. She was alone and no one was left for her. Her knee brushed the ribbed surface of her scar and somehow her fingers found the mark of the betrayal, the mistake... of her loss. 

And every time she was alone with her thoughts, they all consumed her like she was drowning. 

_ If I look back I‘m lost _ ... but that couldn’tstop her from sinking into memories. She saw them in her head, everything. Always. And it was just so real. Sometimes the voices became louder than everything around her and all she could do was listening even though she doesn’t want to. There was no week she didn’t hear Drogons crying scream, even when Daenerys has never had heard it. She didn’t know why but she remembered it...somehow. In the first few weeks she never recognized his voice as something in her head and every time she ran to him looking if he is hurt or afraid, but every single time he was okay. He had no pain nor was he afraid. 

So many times she felt Jorahs hot blood on her hands and tights, she saw blood running out of his mouth like a small red river. And so many times she heard the sound of a head falling onto the dusty ground, followed by its lifeless body...

And she couldn’t do anything about it. 

Daario tried to help her but every time he made a step towards her she jumped back. He couldn’t help, no one could and no one ever will. 

Her tears finally stopped falling, Daenerys didn’t know for how long she‘s already been lying there but she couldn’t move. Her eyes wide, stared into the darkness under the blanket but in her head...she saw everything but black darkness. Known and unknown pictures surrounded her until she saw her red tights and felt the pain again. That was the moment when she jumped up from her bed, grabbed one of the goblets from the ground and poured herself a new full wine. 

She didn’t want to drown again. Not today. And she definetly didn’t want to cry herself to sleep tonight. That‘s why she drank. Because wine, preferably dornish red, was the only way to silence the voices, the sounds and kept the pictures out of her head... they didn’t silence them completely but since she preferred wine it was way easier to ignore them after a few filled goblets. 

In moments like this she was able to understand how Tyrion could drink himself through the narrow sea...even though she doesn’t understand how he ever managed to stop. 

Without her beloved dornish red wine Daenerys Targaryen would already have thrown herself from the great pyramid of Meereen. 

„How hard is it to love something that death can touch?“

***^***

The people of Meereen had chosen their own leaders after Daenerys had left. The new government of Meereen were six people of the folk chosen by their friends, neighbors and others. They still lived somewhere in the city but kept their ruling center in the great pyramid of the city as some kind of a power symbol. They still do the same as Daenerys did in hearing the people’s complains day by day and search for solutions and make important decisions. But this scenery doesn’t take place in the throne room, not anymore, but in another big room a few floors lower than the throne room. 

They are all sitting in their chairs on a crescent shaped table, Daenerys who is allowed to live in the great pyramid, is sitting between them. Three to the right and three to the left of her while they were listening to a old mans problem with his sheep. 

Daenerys gets always an invitation to this meetings and to show her gratitude she takes her seat in the middle of them even though it doesn’t feel like she should be here with them. 

They refused to let her sit anywhere else than in between them because they want to show the people that nothing changed after her queen came back.

But everything changed. Daenerys changed and the people around here are completely different. Every one of the councilors took their time afterwards to talk with her, they apologized for what they heard about what happened beyond the narrow sea and wanted to know if the rumors are true... of course they never asked her with those words which made it easier to answer without really answering those kind of questions. 

But when Daenerys left them to retreat into the upper floors everyone knew she wanted to be alone. 

But today one member of the council of Meereen followed her and just started talking. That wouldn’t have been a problem at all, but she was tired and her head hurt maybe she drank too much last night. But it was all worth it for silence and peace in her head for one night.

They were standing in the old throne room in front of the long staircase under the throne she had used to sit on. There was no use for this room anymore and Daenerys never intended to return into this room, not without holding her forehead and fleeing into her chambers when the voices became to loud. But she has to walk through the small hall to reach the staircase leading to her bed chambers. 

At least this time she wasn’t alone to get lost in thoughts. „...and we are grateful you are back, your grace.“ the old man finished. His eyes were black like black stones and his head was as bare as a egg with only a single white hair. Daenerys didn’t remember his name but he was a tradesman from the port and smelled like fish and leather. But he was still a former slave and the marks on his face, neck and fists were still there and good to see. Daenerys once asked him why he wouldn’t want to hide those, in that way he could leave the past behind and maybe forget about it if he doesn’t have to see them all the time. But the old man had just smiled and returned something Daenerys didn’t understand. Not because she wasn’t listening but because all she heard was Tyrions loud voice echoing in her head: „Never forget what you are,...and it can never be used to hurt you.“ 

„Your grace“, Daario began as entered the old throne room. Both of them turned around when they heard his voice. Daenerys didn’t see him throughout the day after she threw him out of her chambers.

And to be honest she was grateful for that. Their number of conflicts grew rapidly with her feeling better... in a way...somehow. No she didn’t, but at least she‘d let Daario touch her and ate again. He never asked her anything in this dark period, just took care she wouldn’t do anything...stupid. But they’re fighting almost every time when he asked ‚How are you?‘. 

And now she wasn’t very fond of him coming in here either. „Excuse me, Daario, but-“

„Your grace, I need to speak with you ...“ he glanced to the old man and gazed back at her. „In private.“

„When we are finished.“ She wanted to say something to the councilor but Daario interrupted her again.

„Your grace-“

„Daario.“ 

„Everyone is afraid of speaking truthfully to you except for me.“ 

She didn’t have to say anything and the old man understood it was time to go. „Your grace...“ he bowed to her, even when she told them they are not supposed to do this. She was not their queen anymore, the councilors were the new government. They weren’t in need of those unnecessary formalities. 

After the man had left she turned around to walk away and she didn’t know why but she was walking up the stairs to the throne. 

„Daenerys, wait!“

„No, Daario! Not now.“

„Daenerys!“

„I said not now, okay, I‘m okay. Everything is fine.“ Daario grinned at that. She of all people, wanted to tell him that she is okay... she was far from ‚okay’ and even further from ‚fine‘. „It’s about Drogon.“ 

And now Daenerys stopped as she heard her sons name.  Good, she‘s listening ...

„He is out of control.“ She turned around slowly and looked down at the leader of the second sons.

„He has always been difficult. And hard to...tame.“ 

„You know it’s not like last time. Last time he left for a couple of months, no one saw him these days and he hunted far away from the city and its people.“

How could she ever forget... the fear for her son, the pain and hatred she felt towards him when a father laid his daughters burned body to her feet. 

„But today he never leaves the city.“ he took a few steps up towards her. „He‘s always flying around roaring. The people are afraid of him after...“, he swallowed „After...“ 

„It was not his fault. He followed my lead, my actions, Daario.“ She took a step down. 

„I know, but he’s aggressiv towards others and the story your people heard is a dragon burning down a city. Their mother...the Mysa they knew would have never done that. Only...only a wild firebreathing monster.“ 

She swallowed and took another stair down. She‘s now as tall as he is and looked directly into his eyes. „I am the mother of dragons, if he’s a monster, so am I.“

** *^* **

She couldn’t sleep that night. Not only because of Daarios snoring by her side but also she couldn’t stop thinking about her only living son. 

She could understand the fear the people must feel when he is flying over their heads roaring but how was she supposed to handle him. Should she send him away?Or leave with him right away? She couldn’t let her-.. the people live in fear. But it wasn’t Drogons fault...not that it was a fault. Or maybe it was...but definitely not his. 

She decided there wouldn’t be any chance of sleep in this night, not yet at least, so she stood up and put some clothes on. She put a cloak on and pushed the hood over her silver hair before she left the great pyramid. 

It was stormy outside and she kept a hold on the hood to made shure it wouldn’tflew away and reveal her typical Targaryen hair. She wouldn’t take that risk to get recognized. Everyone thought she was dead and she wouldn’t want to change that.

The strong wind howled through the empty streets and alleys of the city. No one was outside and the lights in the houses had already gone out. 

After some time she reached the city walls but refused to become escorted by the guards out of the city. But still two of the second sons followed her with torches to the gate. Daenerys watched the pillar of light becoming smaller and smaller until it was gone and the gate closed behind her with a loud thud. It was completely dark outside the walls. She could barely see the horizon but she kept walking forwards. The wind was strong and she could barely open her eyes without tearing up from all the dirt and dust flying around. 

And then she heard something that sounded like a grumble in the distance. She walked further away from the city and towards the familiar sounds until she saw some movement on the horizon. And now she felt the grumble on the ground through the soles of her boots. When she looked up she recognized his black outline against the night sky. 

He growled and a red smile appeared in the distance. Flames locked behind black teeth. The wind got stronger and turned its direction so it hit her back. „Drogon“

He must have smelled her by now or recognized her voice because as fast as the fire smile appeared as fast it disappeared. 

Daenerys stretched her arm out into the darkness until she felt his smooth, dry scales of his nose under her fingers. There he was. He is always there. Until now... 

„My sweet little boy...“, she didn’t know why she whispered but him being here calmed her down. She felt his hot breath on her face and with one snort he blew her hood off her head. Drogon sniffed at her whole body and took in her smell in like a horse at a piece of dung. Drogon took his time and paid way too much attention to her belly. „There‘s nothing, sweetling, not anymore. And there will nothing ever be...“After some time she gently pushed him away and made her way around him. To made shure she wouldn’t lose him hin the dark, Daenerys ran her fingers along his nose to his horns and brushed it over his long muscled neck, she dived down under his shoulder and under his great wing and sat down beside his rips leaning back to them. 

She took a deep breath and felt Drogon doing the same. Under his wing the stormy wind couldn’t reach her and his body heat made her feel like she was in a small house when she made the move to close her eyes. This thought and his calm breathing almost lulled her to sleep. 

But shortly after the big dragon moved above her and a bright light appeared. Her eyes weren’t used to light after her long walk in he dark so she needed some time to get used to it. Drogon was breathing fire in front of him before he put his own head under his wings in front of Dany. The light shone above his neck into their little hiding place. It was as if he knew she didn’t see much cause that was all he did. He made a fire and didn’t pay any attention to it afterwards. 

Looking into the red depths of his eyes now reminded her why she was here...

„I know you love them. I know you miss them. And i know you are just as lonely as I am...“ 

He blinked and his nictitating membrane pulled slowly back in place revealing his big pupil again. Maybe he wanted to agree with her in that way because he was still looking at her attentively.

„I‘m so sorry you lost them. You saw them dying, you heard their last roars and you‘ll never see them again.“ Her throat closed and tears pricked in her eyes. Drogon grumbled but it wasn’t in a dangerous or threatening way. It reminded Dany more of a purring cat, so she continued: „I wish they were here. With you, us.“ She looked him the entire time into his big eye. „In that way you would be happy. Everything would be okay, everything would be the way it was. But nothing will ever be okay again...They-..They ask me if I‘m okay. And ... and I want to scream ‚No!‘ I mean how can anything ever be okay after any of...this....But instead I answer as quick as possible...so that they... they don’t see me hesitate when I lie to them... so that they don’t notice my thin voice or blank eyes. ... I say ‚I‘m fine‘ because I don’t want them to ask questions I can’t answer. I‘m not able to answer. I just-.. can’t.“ Her stomach turned and her throat closed.

She was talking about them but there was no one else left than Daario and Drogon who would care. And Drogon isn’t able to ask or say anything, that was probably the reason she was telling him this. Because he couldn’t ask her anything or try to comfort her. At least not like Daario does. 

A tear slipped free while she continued and all Drogon did was listening to her shaky words.

„And so I lie...I say those words..but I don’t feel them.“ She smiled sadly even though she didn’t know why. „And every day it just gets worse and worse.“ 

How could she lose the real reason why she was here out of her eyes. She didn’t even know why she was telling him all this, but it felt like her confession is safe with him. 

He lifted his head from the dusty ground and came closer to her until he nudged her carefully with his nose against her head. And again this time harder against her shoulder. It was strong enough to knock her to the ground and made her smile. „Careful, sweetling.“

She carefully nudged his head away and sat back up, leaning back onto his rips while she watched his head falling back into the dusk...closer to her this time.

„Caring for people makes you weak. You‘ll do thing for them that you know you shouldn’t do...you act the fool to make them happy to protect them... and every time you lose more of yourself.“ 

Right now she had special pictures in her head. Everyone of them happened in Winterfell, but not now.... _ Not now _ .

„The more people you love the weaker you are.“ She‘d never thought she would say anything Cercei ever said...and she hated that they were true. „And the more you care, the more you suffer. And in the end...you lose them anyway. It doesn’t matter what you do everyone is just leaving...“ She swallowed. „Everyone but you... And I‘m afraid if you’d stay I‘ll lose you, too. One way or the other and I‘ll be alone.“  Alone and lonely . 

He whimpered which made Danys heart ache. „I won’t let anything happen to you. I couldn’t protect Viserion and... I didn’t save Rhaegal and I may cannot give you safety but I can save you before something happens to you.“ Drogon snorted and pushed his head closer to his mother. 

„My own sweet Drogon.“ She met him on half way and leaned now against his head. His eye followed every move of her. „You‘ll have a good life. You’ll be free to fly around, discover ne places...new sheep.“, she teased even though they both know that sheep wouldn’t be enough anymore. He grew very fast in the last few months, now that he was back in hot climate, and his head alone had the height of a pony. And he will get bigger, much bigger. 

„You‘ll fill people with wonder and awe. You’ll be your own safety...away from me.“ Careful she put her hand under the scales of his eye and scratched him lightly which made him purr. He was just lovely...Dany couldn’t imagine what she would do if she had so see him suffering like his brothers. Or the others...

They’d already lost Rhaegal and Viserion. But still Daenerys remembered every single detail of their last moments. She saw them falling from the sky, heard their panicked painful screams and the water when they fell into the ocean or broke through the ice. 

She didn’t want to keep him in memory like that. Not like his brothers whose last moments were the only thing she remembered of them. And that was probably the worst...years and years of seeing them every day and all she could remember were their last seconds of life. Instead she remembered other things, of other people, other places she’d never seen or been before. 

She’d lost so much, so many loved ones and every time she lost something of herself. What would happen to her when she loses Drogon the same way? What would be left her?

„Dragons life much longer than men. Your brothers won’t but you. You, of all of us, are still alive and you will be here long after I’m gone. So you’ll be alone anyway...just a bit earlier.“ She took a few moments to take a reassuring breath before she turned towards his eye looking at it closely.

„You’ll growand get much bigger than Balerion the black dread. Your wings will darken the sky and cast a shadow over the biggest cities. You’ll become more heavy and every time you land the earth will quiver. Every time you shall roar it’ll be heard over a hundred miles away like thunder. ... You‘ll have a long life. You’ll be save.“  _ Far away from me _ . „And I know you carry the strength in you to survive.“  _ Alone _ .

She turned away again, not being able to hold his gaze, and shook her head. „No I don’t want you to survive. I’ve lived that kind of life and it’s not worth it. But I want you to live. I want you to...show the world what dragons are. Don’t let the memory disappear in old history books in Old Town to become nothing more than a myth.“ She didn’t know where this name came from but it felt like she knew this city and what it was for. „Live...and show everyone that the dragons are not done.“  _ But I am _ .

He moved. Drogon withdraw his head from under his wing and shook it sleepily. Daenerys knew what he was about to do before he was even doing it. There was this rattling hiss before the flames even left his throat. The fire filled her with warmth when she stepped out of the safety of his wing, even though the fresh wind was strong outside. The flames hit the ground with a loud thud and burned dust and dirt away. He brushed his head and throat through the glowing ground. Was he scratching himself? 

Daenerys moves around him a few meters away and looked at him. She just looked at him. Dany saw his full front size in the light of the fire...the rest stayed hidden in the dark. And even when he wasn’t listening to her now Daenerys continued talking. Mostly to herself than him.„You always had a temper, the strength none of your brothers could keep up with. That’s why you’re still here...My brave boy, that’s probably the reason why you’re that big now. I know you’re unhappy.“ Now he looked up at her and shook the rest of the glowing dirt of his body. „I can hear your roars almost every night...“ Every time she’s about to break down... „And I don’t know if it’s me... but I’m the cause of all this. I put you in all those pain...but I won’t pull you into this hole with me.“ 

Slowly Drogon came closer. But his head moved above her head and first Dany didn’t understand what he was up to until she noticed. He moved around her in a circle before he laid himself down around her, like a dog. His tail closed around her and he put his wing back down above her head. But this time he didn’t join her under his wing. 

Dragons are intelligent creatures...more intelligent than some men. 

She sat back down, leaning against his rips and listened to his steady breathing.

It was stupid of her to leave everything behind for Westeros...the word spread and the more people heard of it the more they grew unsure of her. But she was done taking the blame. And she wished she’d be done caring. But the truth is...Daenerys didn’t know what else she had left if not the love of the people in Meereen. Where else should she go? She couldn’t leave. Not without breaking into a million pieces. That was her only save place... but not Drogons. The only possibility was to let him go. _Without her._ _One day you will be alone anyway_. S he had to take him away from here. Far away from the city. 

But Drogon made no move to fly away. Tomorrow probably. But in the last few month when she visited her son he had barely let her go back into the city again. But Daenerys doubted that he had understood a single word she said. Maybe dragons are more intelligent than some men but he was still an animal, wasn’t he? He probably didn’t even understand what she said. 

But he was still the only one she could tell those things. 

Another possibility would be locking Drogon away like Viserion and Rhaegal and every other last dragons of her house. But she couldn’t do this...not to him. Drogon would just...wither away. He wouldn’t eat and die. 

Daenerys had given up on her other children...  _ What kind of mother gives up on her children?  _

Not this time.

„Zaldrizes buzdari iksos davor...a dragon is not a slave.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danys chapters will definitely be my faves...


	4. „You‘ll never walk again...but you will fly.“ - Three-Eyed Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 305 A. C.

„Your grace? Our council meeting...“ Tyrion glanced into the room through the small gap of the door he just opened. „We‘re about to start and-“ Then he saw the king. He turned his back, or the back of the wheelchair, to him and faced the door to the balcony of his chambers. But the king didn’t answer. Even though the king was completely hidden behind the big back of the wheelchair ... Tyrion could clearly see the top of the kings head and his hair. „Your grace?“ No answer. Carefully Tyrion looked around. There was no member of the Kingsguard in front of the door and the king was alone in his cold, empty room. Of course the king had been busy...somehow, but it also seemed like he had no intentions of setting up comfortably. There was a big bed, a few closets and a single chair in the middle of the room. Well, and two wooden boards on the small staircase which help the king to overcome the three steps to his bed.

Where were Ser Brienne or Podrick? At a normal term there would be at least one of the two in here or in front of the door to take care of the king. Most of the time they have to explain visitors that the king doesn’t want to be disturbed. And most of the time it had been Tyrion who was send away with the promise the king will hear of his visit. 

But if Tyrion wasn’t allowed to come in...then there would be a member of the Kingsguard in front of his room telling him he wasn’t allowed, was he...?

In the end his curiosity got the best of him...leading Tyrion further into the room. Of course he wasn’t stupid. The king already had made it clear that he doesn’t want to be disturbed when he’s ‚warging‘. Everyone agreed with their king, even though no one had any idea what it meant. And so had Tyrion. He tried to find out something about this ‚warging‘ thing but the books, or at least what was left of it, didn’t help either. Tyrion had asked Samwell Tarly about it, but the young maester only answered that the king has the ability to ‚see‘ things. And that didn’t help Tyrion at all. What does ‚he sees things‘ mean? What is warging? Was it like the red priestress seeing visions in flames? Tyrion had no idea but he also never asked the king. And the king never made any effort of explaining himself. 

But after he had seen Stonemen, Wights and dragons it was easier for him to believe in the existence of this ability...

But nothing of those things could have prepared him for the sight of his king when he came closer and walked around the wheelchair to take a look. He couldn’t help himself, he was just to curious...and then he saw him and gasped at the sight:

The kings head was thrown back and pressed against the back of his chair and looked at the ceiling without blinking. His eyes where completely white without its pupils...they where just as white and empty as fog. In the last few month he had already made up his own theories but he never thought about anything like...this.

Tyrion needed a few moments before he finally tore his gaze away from the kings eyes. And then he saw how tensed Brandon Stark sat in his chair. His fingers clawed into the wood of his armrests it made his knuckles white. Was that normal? Tyrion couldn’t tell. It was the first time he saw his king like this. Or doing this at all. At normal terms he would sit motionless in his chair, looking around andwell...doing nothing. But now he looked like he was in terrible pain. Small veins appeared in his forehead and throat and the king began grunting through gritted teeth. „Y-your...your grace? Is everything alright? Your grace?“

„Lord Tyrion?“ At the sudden voice Tyrion flinched. And when he looked at the door he saw Ser Podrick Payne...in his golden armor and snow white cloak. He was standing in the frame of the wide open door. „Lord Tyrion, you’re not allowed to be in here. ... The king wanted to be alone.“ 

„Of course it’s just...“, Tyrion glanced back at the king who seemed like he was still in pain, but at least he stopped grunting, before he returned his gaze to his former scarce. „You know...I was just about to leave. There’s a council meeting I have to take care of.“ Slowly Tyrion passed the wheelchair, descended the three stairs and passed the young knight.„Ser Podrick.“ he bowed his head and walked down the corridor.

„Lord Tyrion.“ Podrick did the same gesture and closed the door behind the dwarf.

On his way to the small council meeting he tried his best to forget what he just saw or at least tried to push the image of his king in the back of his head but this picture of him was burned in his brain. He didn’t found out anything new about this ability...but at least he became aware that the kings ‚seeing‘-ability isn’t the same thing as the seeing of visions in flames. 

Finally he arrived at the throne room where they would all met for their council meeting. The Tower of the Hand was still destroyed and only half rebuilt. And even when he gets finished they will continue to do their small council meeting in the throne room...in this way it was easier for the king to take part in it.

To be honest there were many changes made, after Brandon Stark took the crown. For example the council meetings only takes place one time per week and not every day like under Roberts or Joffreys rule. But that’s how the king wanted it. If Tyrion remembered correctly the king said that daily meetings would be to ornate and useless in a almost dead city. But Tyrion was shure the king just doesn’t want to be part of these meetings so often.

Many people had already noticed that the king was different compared to his former rulers. He preferred silence and the peace of his lonely chambers. And now Tyrion finally knew what he does when he’s alone in there and doesn’t want to be disturbed. 

When the Hand of the king finally entered the almost completely rebuilt throne room he found his small council waiting for him. Or at least something like that. Because he could see in everyone’s faces, except for Ser Brienne and the new guy, that they didn’t want to be there now. 

Just like the builders on the other side of the hall the members of the small council hadn’t even noticed Tyrion entering the room. But he didn’t care about the builders which were at least ten feet in the air, rebuilding the roof of the hall, trying to replace the molten stones with new ones and looking at their feet to avoid to fall into their deaths.

Ser Bronn, Master of Coin, rested his feet on the round table and played with a blade on his fingers; Maester Samwell, played with his son, little Sam, on his lab and made faces; Davos Seaworth, Master of Ships, doze off with his bearded chin resting on his chest. 

And then there were Ser Brienne, Commander of the Kingsguard, and the new Master of Whisperers, Lord Talem, who reminded Tyrion of a young maester Pycelle with black hair and grass green eyes. They were the only one who were aware of Tyrion entering the hall and they were the first to stand up and greeting him politely. „Lord Hand.“ And after the the others became aware of his presence the stood also up and greeted him in unition.

„Lord Hand.“

Yes, they definetly didn’t want to be here. Yes, this small council was about to break apart. And yes, if Tyrion was honest to himself he preferred the old council with Varys, Littlefinger and even Grand maester Pycelle. But they had already known each other for years under Roberts rule ... and this one is just about to get to know each other. How long do they know each other? 10 months? 11? But they would make it. He had a good feeling about them and together they will bring peace and prosperity to the six kingdoms and its people. But until then he has to hold them together...especially now. 

While Tyrion made his way towards his chair, between Samwell and Bronn, he passed the two empty chairs for the missing Master of Laws and Master of War. 

Tyrion had no idea why they were still there after the king had made it clear that he was in no need for any of those two councilors. He didn’t need a Master of War because there was no war and no threat to the realm and they were in no need for a Master of Laws because of the missing people who wouldn’t need any laws especially now when they have other things to handle... And even after Tyrion tried to talk with the king about this decision he was turned down by him. And it wasn’t as simple to change the kings mind or talk sense into him as it has been with other rulers before him. He could advise and control Joffrey by yelling and slapping him. And Daenerys was easyto deliberate with reason, if she could control herself and her own temper...and then there was Brandon...after some time as his Hand, the king began to finish his sentences after he just stared at him expressionless and listened... before he sent Tyrion away. But every time when Tyrion wasn’t about to back down, the king reminded him that the only reason he was here was for his punishment. ‚The hand could never replace he head.‘ The king once said...if Tyrion remembered correctly.

„Where’s the king?“, asked the lord Commander who was sitting on Bronns right side. Her hands were folded on the table as she sat straight in her wooden chair.

„The king is...“, Tyrion had no idea how to describe what he had seen. How? The small council doesn’t even know what exactly the Three-Eyed Raven was supposed to be. „...he’s busy. But he will probably join us later on. I‘m shure of it.“

„So let’s start this.“ Davos, who sat next to Samwell, pushed his chair closer to the table and looked at everyone.

There was a short silence between them. Until the new Master of Whisperers, who was next to Davos, started talking: „Yes, and I want to start with an important-“

„I want to leave.“, Bronn interrupted him and looked at Tyrion. Yes this was exactly what Bronn did during the meetings. Interrupting the other counselors.

But Tyrion knew exactly what the former mercenary wanted from him. And it didn’t surprised him that he began this discussion again... „We’ve already talked about this and-“

„Yes, but now I‘m not asking anymore.“

„You can’t just leave. We need you here.“

„You’re the hand of the king, they need you here. But I am the Lord of Highgarden and Lord Paramount of the Reach. I have to be there. They need a lord there or otherwise everything will look like this city. Empty and depressing. I want to see my castle, my bannermen, my lands...the brothels.“

„But you’re also the Master of Coin. We need you here doing your work.“ Tyrion couldn’t say Bronn was good at being Master of Coin but he was still better than having no one in this position.

„Work? What work?“ Bronn leaned back in his chair and spread his arms. „I’ve been here since the day these eunuchs and riding people left and nothing changed. The city is still empty and the people refuse to move back into the city after the dragon destroyed most of it.“ _ I know! And we‘re doing everything we can to bring them back in!  _ The people were still afraid of coming back into the city and it felt like they had achieved nothing in the last few months. The resources weren’t enough to rebuilt the city and the builders were still about to rebuilt the Red Keep. The crown had barely enough corn to fed all those homeless or crippled people...and winter was here. The same winter the Starks had warned them for so many years.

Sometimes he wondered what was left to work with.

Tyrion asked himself that the people would grow more confident if they saw their king. But the king refused. 

But at least the Hand of the king did everything he could. He really tried his best to avoid or overcome all the problems they were currently facing...and then there were people like-

„Lord Hand?“ This time it was Ser Davos who spoke and pulled Tyrion back and out of his thoughts.

„Ser Bronn you‘ll stay here and do your duty until we find someone to replace you.“ Something inside Tyrion wondered why or how Bronn even got into his position in the Small Council. 

_Now that this task is done..._ „What do you have to say, Ser Davos?“

„There’s something I wanted to ask of you, too.“, he waited for Tyrion to say something, but he didn’t, and so he continued. „I would like to lend a ship...to sail north... and visit Jon Snow in Eastwatch.“

„The traitor?“ Of course the new Master of Whisperers didn’t know who they were talking about. How could he?

„He‘s not a traitor.“ Samwell began. Trying to defend his friend. „He-“

„He just killed his mad queen.“, Bronn simply explained to the new one.

„Please that’s not why we’re here.“ Everyone looked at Tyrion. „We’re here to find solutions for our problems. And right now, we need every coin and...“, he looked at Davos. „...and every ship we have, to get food and other resources we can build with.“

„Aye, of course. Don‘t worry, I would take all the precautions before I leave.“ Ser Davos was a good man indeed but Tyrion wasn’t shure if they could take that risk. What if the resources aren’t enough? They didn’t know if his journey would take to long? Winter was here. The long winter the maesters promised would come...and the seven kingdoms weren’t prepared. Not even close.

„How can you all break your oaths to the king. We are here to serve the king and the realm as good as we can. Now we have to stick together.“ Brienne was looking at each and everyones faces...ending with Tyrions.

„Now I‘d really like to say something about this ‚sticking together‘- subject.“ This time the Master of Whisperers held his hand up but no one paid any attention to him. 

„No one is leaving.“ assured Tyrion the commander.

„I‘m leaving.“ Brienne glared at the sellsword but Tyrion tried his best to ignore his comment.

Shortly after everyone in the small council was talking at once, while Tyrion rubbed his sleeves as if their were in pain.This wasn’t helping at all.

Ser Bronn and Ser Brienne were yelling at each other while facing one another, Davos tried his best to explain himself to Tyrion, but he has to admit that he only understood small pieces of what the old knight had to say. Something like „before the sea turn into ice“ and „needs a friend“ and „not forgotten“.

Thank the gods they became quiet when a big stone fell from the roof of the hall and bursted in the stone floor. In the distant one of the builders murmured an apology but before they had the chance to yell at each other again, Tyrion was speaking again: „Stop it!“ and everyone looked at him. „Sit back down, now.“ and everyone who was standing sat back down on their chairs without saying a word. Tyrion took a deep breath but this time the Master of Whisperers took advantage of the silence and began to speak: „I have to say something. Something of importance, I’m shure no one of you dared to miss.“

Tyrion nodded. Lord Talen was just as calm and patient as his predecessor but not as confident and eloquent. And instead of having his little birds like Varys used to he’s always talking about ‚his eyes‘ or ‚his friends eyes‘ which just felt strange. In his head Tyrion corrected him every time he said these phrases. „My eyes...“ _Little birds_ „...have interesting informations about our favourite black armored eunuchs.“

„What about the Unsullied?“, Tyrion questioned. 

And now Lord Talen leaned forward and grinned at him. „They have been seen. At the port of Quarth. Then at the port of Astapor where they left ships and continued their way north...towards Meereen.“

„How many?“

„42.“

„42 are not unusual. Maybe they needed some resources for Naath or-“

„Lord Hand“, Lord Talen interrupted him but Tyrion didn’t listen at all.

„Or they found out about the deadly butterflies and that’s all that’s left of them.“

„Deadly butterflies?“, Bronn asked unsure and made a face as if he wouldn’t believe him. 

„Yes, Ser Bronn.“

„Did you know that?“ Bronn was now looking at Samwell who stopped playing with his son the moment he became aware of everyone staring at him. 

„I...I-.. What? I ...no! I didn’t learn anything about that yet. I-..I‘m just a maester. ...not a Grand maester.“

„Then why is he here?“ Bronn was now staring at Tyrion again. „I thought only Grand maesters are allowed to serve a king or a lord?“

„I think you misunderstood me, Lord Hand“, began the Master of Whisperers again, „I‘m not talking about 42 soldiers. I‘m talking about 42 ships, filled with unsullied soldiers who left their ships and followed one of them on a white horse out of the city.“

Tyrion remembered 73 ships leaving Kingslanding. 

„Why would they...?“ But no one paid any attention to Bronn.

„That’s not possible.“

„There’s only one reason why they would take this way with more than half of their men.“ Tyrion gazed above Sams head towards Davos and the shared a look. 

„She’s dead. Jon Snow killed her.“, but he wasn’t listening to Briennes words at all. 

„And if she’s not?“ Davos had seen things...things that weren’t possible. At least he thought that. But then he saw them and...who says that these things couldn’t be done by someone else than Melisandre? Who says Jon Snow is not the only one who is-

„Why would he lie?“ Brienne was clearly not accepting the fact that she was being ignored.

„To save his own skin?“

„No Ser Bronn, Jon wouldn’t lie and he would not put himself before others. Jon would never do that.“, dismissively Sam shook his head. How could they even think that. They didn’t knew Jon as good as him of course, but some of them knew them good enough to know that he wouldn’t do such a thing. Jon was his friend...why wasn’t Davos saying anything about it?!

„We never saw the corpse.“ And why was this Ser Bronn acting like he was there. He wasn’t! Well, Sam wasn’t either but he didn’t try to act like he was...

When Davos finally spoke Sam wanted to defend Jon with the old knight...but instead he said: „She could be alive. There are...ways.“ And this time Samwell saw him and Lord Tyrion sharing a glance at each other.

Davos was probably right. There were ways. The same way Jon Snow experienced.... Maybe he put a dagger through her heart...and she survived it. Just like him. One way or another if she was alive Mereen would be her only place of retreat that she has left. Dragonstone was left too but too close to Westeros...and no one loved her in Westeros. Only in Essos...in Meereen.

„What if he never intended to kill her and wanted to ran off with her? ...But we arrested him instead.“

_ The unsullied arrested him. Grey worm did. _

„Please can you stop talking shit about my friend! You weren’t there! You have no idea!“

„And you weren’t there either, Maester.“

Samwell and Bronn were speaking loudly over the table at each other while Tyrion disappeared deep in his thoughts. 

He was shure it was Grey Worm they followed. And there was only one reason why he would take half of his men to into this direction... Tyrion hoped they were wrong. He hoped he was wrong and all of this were just one coincidence after another...but a small voice in his head whispered that this weren’t some coincidences anymore.

** *^* **

To be honest he couldn’t wait for the Small Council meeting to be over. He used to enjoy them but now he felt tired and way to sober. He walked back to his chambers and poured a goblet of wine for himself. 

The chambers of the Hand of the king were nothing more than one big room on the upper floors of the red keep. The Tower of the Hand was destroyed and the builders have all hands full with clearing the rubble in the corridors and rooms. Tyrion poured himself a goblet of wine and threw himself to sit on a chair, but before he even had the chance to take a sip someone knocked on his door. The Hand of the king took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment and when he glanced at the door he found Maester Samwell, his head was pushed through the gab in the door as he glanced into the room. 

„Come in.“ Tyrion waves the young man in and as he stepped in he revealed his son clinging on his fathers left hand.

„I won’t bother you...I...I just wanted to ask if you had already thought about my request...my wish...ahm...my suggestion...?“ With every word he spoke his voice became notably quieter and he became more and more insecure of himself and the reason why he was here. 

„I did. And I told the king about your wish...but he’s not very fond of it.“, Tyrion answered while he played with the wine in his cup.

„I know. I know, but I...don’t worry I know but...“

„Have you thought about it, as I requested?“ Sam nods. He had no idea what he could do...and after a heavy pause he replied: „But I haven’t changed my mind.“

„Is it because of what Ser Bronn had said before?“ 

He shook his head, while he came closer and sat down on the opposite side of the table. Little Sam followed him and took a seat beside his father and started playing with a small figure on the table. „But he’s right anyway“, Sam continued, „I‘m no Grand maester. I’m not old enough to-...a-and I don’t have enough knowledge to serve the king...“ While he spoke his son disappeared under the table and continued playing with the figure under the table. Clicking sounds of the little figure knocking on the stone floor filled the room while the grown men spoke. „...not like he wants me to ...not yet at least. And all the books in Kingslanding won’t be enough to replace my lack of knowledge. And these books aren’t the ones I need to educate myself....“

„You stole from the citadel...how do you think the maesters of Old Town will react when you return to them?“

Sam knew that queen Daenerys had no time to pardon his robbery but he has to try...He has to take the risk. He wants to learn and to educate himself...that’s the reason he wanted to be a maester since he was a little boy who dreamed of-

„But you still want to leave us and continue your education in Old Town?“ 

Sam nodded. „Y- yes. But I wouldn’t leave now of course. I mean t-the king still needs me...“ _Somehow._ Even though Sam wasn’t shure how the king, a Three-Eyed Raven, could need him. „..a-and my...my wife needs to rest in the next few months.“ 

„How long?“ Sam was taken aback by the sudden personal question. Or wasn’t this supposed to be a personal question and Lord Tyrion was just asking when he was about to leave them.

„Only a few weeks left until she... when I am...“ 

„And you‘ll father your second son.“ Tyrion smiled. 

„Yes.“ He was happy. He couldn’t describe this feeling of expecting a son to be born. And he couldn’t wait to hold him...or her. The sex wouldn’t matter to him anyway. But Sam knew that he wanted to take care of Gilly and he wouldn’t take the risk of taking her on such a long journey to Old Town. Even though his wife was a wildling and had already proved that she was more robust than other woman Sam knew. Well he didn’t knew many, but he was pretty shure about it. 

„I‘ll try my best with the king and while your wife recovers from childbirth the citadel can send a Grand maester. It will take some time, but we can arrange it...if you are completely shure about it.“ While Tyrion spoke he prepared a sheet of parchment and a pen and began writing. There was a silent between them and for a few minutes Samwell listened to the clicking sound of his playing son and the quiet scratching of the writing feather on the paper.

„I‘m shure...“

„I‘ll talk to the king...but give me some time.“ To be honest there were way more important things right now he had to take care of.

„Lord Tyrion?“ When the Hand looked up he saw Samwell standing on the door, his son running towards him before he jumped into his fathers arms. And when he looked at Tyrion again his face was filled with insecurely sadness. „Do you think... he lied? ... Jon?“

Tyrion swallowed and put the pen down. 

„Do you truly believe he had a plan like...like this? ... Helping her, I mean. After everything she had done?“

Tyrion had no idea what he could say. He had no idea by himself. He never believed Jon Snow to do something like that. Saving Daenerys Targaryen after she burned down the city...Tyrion knew the northman had seen the pain and loss she caused in the city with his own eyes...It seemed impossible for a man like Jon Snow to do such a thing. And he couldn’t imagine him doing it. But he also didn’t believe the queen would be able to do something like that either...so he didn’t trust in himself anymore. At least not in things like this, after all his mistakes he had made...

„I don’t know. But we‘ll find out soon.“

Sam didn’t seem convinced at all. ... Tyrion wasn’t either. But with a nod the Maester left, carrying his son in his arms who began playing with the small figure on his fathers shoulder. 

And least one child enjoys its time in the city. 

The hand of the king took a sip of his whine and reread the letter he just wrote.

_ ‚To the Queen in the north, Sansa of house Stark...‘ _

** ——————————————— **

The first time he tried to take him over was after supper. And it was also the first time he was kicked out. 

He had never been kicked out of an animal before. It felt like he was falling into darkness but then he was back in his chair where he took his time to calm himself down. If he had it tried before this would be way easier. But he had no experience in warging into an animal of this size and he couldn’t compare it to a raven or a direwolf. 

He tried to remember what went wrong, but the only thing he felt was a strong wave of fear and panic that swept him away like the sea a seal of its stone on a coast. 

Loneliness and disorientation and looking for a save place.. for _her_....

He had memories in his head which weren’t his...everything happened so fast. The animal was just to alerted and anxious for him to see things clearly. He was just overwhelmed by the emotions he felt all of a sudden. Dragons were clearly more complex than a raven.

He lost him and the connection broke. 

Back in his chambers he tried to remember everything but the only things he remembered were the strong feelings and small pictures he had seen...

They were circling above Dragonstone. Out of despair he called for his brothers...even though he knew they were dead. And he never received an answer.

When he tried again a second time, his presence disgraced the dragon and they fell from the sky while battling for control over the body. Right on time he left him before they fell into the sea. 

Once again he gathered his strength but stopped as fast pictures of memories flooded his mind. A desert, mountains... people walking or running towards him...something moved under his wing, and a quiet gasp, ... flames and the smell of burning meat and young blood flooded his nostrils...screams of men filled the air...

He recognized her at the moment he saw her under the wing. He cradled her stomach and writhed in the dirt. The blood smell came from her...the smell of death.

_ Finally.... _

And this time he put everything into this move when he warged into the giant dragon. At least he managed to stay in his head. 

He felt what the dragon felt. The cold wind under his wings and the smell of salty sea air filling his nostrils. And with that he felt the small thing in his claws. He wanted to look at it but at this moment of weakness the dragon tried to get rid of him again. They fought for control and again the dragon won. But this time they stayed connected in a way. He couldn’t do anything. He just felt everything the dragon felt and got a look at his memories, or at least the newer onces, but had no control over his actions. But it was enough to send him into one direction. North. And the panic and despair let the dragon do as he told.

How was this possible? He had always had full control over the animals he warged in. But ne never warged into a dragon. 

Dragons are indeed quiet different from everything he had experienced yet. 

After some time they got used to each other. He accepted the dragons control and the dragon was most likely to disgraced by his instincts to save his mother... But it gave him time to look at his memories... 

He saw the same pictures. The smell of blood and death filled the air of the dessert. The same smell that woke him up. He felt the movements under his wing. And heard the screams of the burning men who came closer even after his warnings...the men he set on fire. He took her with him...

His grip closed around the frame of her small body as the dragon experienced everything again because of him and his wing beat got faster. 

The blood dried a long time ago but she also stopped moving...but he heard her heart beat....

And when he tried to take a look at her he was rebuked.

** *^* **

He couldn’t wait anymore. Every time they battled over control he lost. But he felt the dragon‘s growing weakness. But with time he felt himself weaken all the same. There was not time to lose, and so he began fighting for control again and this time he took over. Leading them further into the north of Westeros. 

A long time ago the weather became unpleasantly cold and the snowflakes became thicker and made it hard to differentiate between sky and ground or even see anything. All the time his nictitating membrane brushed them out of his eyes. 

Here and then he felt a small movement in his claws which pushed him to fly faster. 

And here and there he called for his brothers but there was no reason in calling for the dead. But still he did it. Maybe the dragon influenced him just as much as he did by leading him north. 

Because at one point he changed his way north. He flew more to the left, and even though he had never seen any of this mountains...he instinctively knew where he was about to go. And then he landed. He tried to stop it, tried to continue flying north because he knew it would be difficult to take off again. 

But still...they landed. Out of instinct he breathed fire and burned snow and ice away from the ground before he landed on the smoking earth...laying her down carefully. 

He felt an ease in his legs and feet...he must have been flying for quiet some time now...and Drogon even longer than him. 

The claws which held her all the time hurt as he moved them...then he looked down: Daenerys Targaryen laid to his feet. Her eyes closed and she didn’t move. The coat she was wearing was dirty by blood, her blood, and frozen by ice and shredded by his fangs. The thin dress lost its colour...from blue to grey...

And then he remembered saw Drogon flying over Westeros screaming and crying for his brothers... He was standing on a hill, surrounded by a grass sea with a corpse to his feet who had a dagger through the heart...

He looked around. It was so peaceful and quiet except for the wind howled over the white land around him. This wa she exact same place he and his brother had rested ...when everything was still okay. 

And then all he felt was the fear. The fear to be alone again... this and the hunger dazed his senses. And he didn’t even know if it were his feelings or the ones of the animal. 

They shared the fear of losing her. He worked way to hard to fail now. 

Carefully he took her in his claws and with one weak jump in the air he took off and flew away.

He felt his weakened state, to strong to be ignored anymore but they were almost there only a few miles left. 

His wing beats became less and he wasn’t aware of how low they were flying in the air until he recognized the big ice Wall in front of him. They were still above it, but when he flapped his wings they continued to sink down and the ice wall came worrying closer...

For a second he thought they could make it but then he felt a strong pain hitting and flooding his whole chest. He screamed when his armored chest brushed the edge of the cold Wall and writhed himself...

Horrified he touched his heaving chest where he hit the Wall with it. But there was nothing. No wound, no blood. And while the pain became less the Three-Eyed Raven brushed a tear from his cheek. A tear he wasn’t aware of having shed.


	5. „...A home for bastards and broken things...“ ~ Tyrion Lannister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 306 A. C  
> Almost a year after season 8 (😷)

„Please stop brooding...it makes you look older than you are“ Tormund said quietly. He stepped to Jons left side and hit him strongly on his broad back. Jon was leaning with his elbows on the top of the railing of the wall-walk and watched his guards doing their daily work in the castle. Some of them chopped wood and others shifted the heavy snow which fell last night. And some others readied Tormunds two horses. Eastwatch was completely rebuild. There were still some big ice pieces which had been to heavy or big to move out of the way but the builders just built around them. But this could never compare to the old Eastwatch.

Jon flinched at the hard slap but smiled nonetheless. „At least I look just like I feel these days...“ Tormund looked at his friend questioningly and frowned. He had hoped for his mood to stay as good as it was in the last few days since Tormund returned from the south. Jon felt better. Way better! But there were still those depressing hours and sometimes days when he got lost in his thoughts or emotions. One night he found him fighting with a tree. He rammed his sword in the root and didn’t even care about the small splinters which flew around. And to be honest Tormund was glad that he’ll leave today if Jon was in this mood. He still loved Jon, he was his friend, like a brother, but in this kind of mood no one could help him only himself. But instead of dark and brooding words he smiled...somehow. „I feel so old...Gods how long have I already been here?“ Tiredly Jon rubbed his face with his hands and groaned into his palms.

„I don’t know...a couple of...months...a year.“

„Fuck.“ Tormund smiled at the little crows curse.

„See it in a positive way...“

„What’s positive about that?“ Jon spread his hands while still leaning on his arms. „You’re in a peaceful environment here...no dangers, traitors or little kings who would harm you. ... You‘ll be the oldest Stark who ever lived.“

„I‘m not a Stark. But it seems like no one cares, anyway.“ And there it was. The first step into this depressing mood he took. But after the first one was done, Tormund knew there was no way back. Jon smiled sadly.

„So why do you?“

This was the first time Jon looked above his shoulder to his friend. „Everything...all I knew was a lie. My whole life. And I was so afraid of what would happen if they knew...“ Jon sighed and straightened himself. Only his hands got a hold on the wooden railing and began kneading the thin wood with his palms. „But it doesn’t matter now, does it?“

„No. It doesn’t....at least to them. But what about you?“ öBut Jon didn’t answer. He just looked out into the courtyard.

„How’s Sansa? ... Did she...?“ Of course he has to pick this subject again. And Tormund shook his head at the question. Again! „Of course not...“. Everyone of his family, the small girl, the cripple who is a raven and the Queen in the North, never asked for Jon. The girl has still disappeared, the raven is in the south and the one person who could look after her lost family member didn’t even asked about his well being or mentioned him towards Tormund when he visited her in her castle. Every single time when Tormund returned from the south it was Jon who asked for them or if they asked for him. And every single time Tormunds answer had been the same. And every time Jon did a bad job at hiding his disappointment. Today he clenched his wrists around the wood of the railing too hard it made the wood crack. But he still smiled with this lips. „...I mean why would she?“

„Jon...“

„It doesn’t matter.“ He pushes himself away from the railing and it shook dangerously. And with a wave of his hand he closed the subject as fast as he started it.

And then Tormund saw the dents in the railing. „Well, it doesn’t seem like it doesn’t matter. ...Not to you at least.“

„I‘m okay Tormund. Everything is alright. I didn’t expect anything else from her. It doesn’t matter.“ Even though Jon didnt looke at him he saw the pain and the frustration in his friends face. It really pained him.

„Aye...it doesn’t.“ But Tormund couldn’t bring himself to look away from Jon. He waited until his friend looked back at him. His blue eyes burned their way into Jons...

Luckily they were interrupted by a woman’s voice. „Tormund, we have to go.“

Both men looked above the railing into the courtyard under the wall-walk. There was a young wildling, a spearwife, with brown hair and a hawk like nose.

Jon couldn’t remember her name but he at least remembered her arrival. One of his stupid northman guards refused to let her in because only Tormund was allowed to do so... made a long story short...she punched the guard in the face and broke his nose. That was the first laugh Jon had in day. Especially because it was one of the guards who escorted him back to the wall a year ago. And the best part they couldn’t do anything about it...no wildling would be harmed on behalf of queen.

„Yeah, I‘m coming.“ Tormund leaned carefully above the railing without leaning onto it. When he looked at Jon he frowned. „What?“

Jon didn’t even notice his grin. „She likes you...I think.“

„Ha! No she doesn’t.“ Tormund grinned behind his thick red beard which made Jon frown. When Tormund noticed his look he clarified: „I tried before.“ But he doesn’t seem to be upset about it. And that made Jon wrinkle his forehead. „Ha! Oh my dear little crow...you truly know nothing.“ He swung his arm around Jons neck and pressed him to his broad chest.

„Maybe not...“ but Jon freed himself of his grip. „...but I know more things than the first time we met.“

„And so, our journey had reached its end....“ Tormund gazed out into the distance, above the weak wooden walls of the castle to the lands south of the wall. „...Gods, it seems like a thousand years ago. You died, came back to life, fought for Winterfell and became the king in the north, went to Dragonstone and fell in love...after a couple of...what? Days? Weeks...?“ Jon ignored the unpleasant stirr in his gut at this reminder. It’s the best to not think about it.

„You do know that you‘d left some things out, don’t you?“ Jon smirked sadly.

„Details aren’t important. Don’t overthink everything. Don’t wait too long because then you start to question everyone and everything and you miss your chance.“

„Like you did?“ Jon teased. It was a weak attempt to lighten his mood.

„Ha! Haha...I took my chance little man. And she refused. When was the last time a woman refused you?“ The words left his mouth without a second thought. And he regretted them in this very moment.

The smile in Jons face quickly fades away. When was the last time a woman refused him? Sansa refuses to recognize him every single day since he was banished. He was sure she wouldn’t even answer any of his ravens if they had any. And even if they had ravens, which wasn’t the case, he was sure he wouldn’t be allowed to send any of them. Arya refused to...return? Bran...who knows what he’s doing. His friends disappeared completely and...then there was no one left. Was he refused? Yes, every single fucking day. The only one who didn’t refuse him got refused by him... and on second thought was that the worst.

Tormund was quiet all the time watching Jon drowning in his thoughts. What was wrong with him! He never wanted to push him into this hole. „Jon...?“ But he didn’t react. _Perfect...._

„Hey Giantsbane, bring your ass down here!“ Alla, the brown beauty, was standing under his feet with their two horses. Tormund nodded. He saw in the corner of his eyes that Jon still didn’t move a muscle. He just stood there, in his black fur cloak and stared at the railing. _Perfect..._

Tormund walked passed Jon and muttered an apology even though he was sure Jon wouldn’t hear him. He was about to walk down the wooden stairway, but before he reached it someone yelled through the cold morning air: „Riders!“

Tormund looked back at Jon. The loud voices which followed the announcement of visitors had pulled Jon out of his head because he was looking at the southern gate of the castle on the other side of the courtyard. „Are they...?“ Tormund started but never finished his question. He didn’t need to because Jon went passed him and finished his sentence for his friend.

„Northmen.“ Jon went down the frozen stairs, his gaze never leaving the six riders who galloped into the castle and stopped in the middle of the courtyard.

He recognized the direwolf on their breastplates and on the white-green flags the two riders on the sides carried with them.

„Jon Snow?“ An old man on the horse at the front asked as Jon walked towards them. He nodded. „You’re coming with us now.“

„Who are you?“ Jon asked but someone behind him yelled and he had no need in turning around. He recognized Tormunds voice the moment he opened his mouth.

„He doesn’t have to go with you! He is a brother of the Nights Watch. ...or something like that.“ Tormund stood behind Jon and inspected the riders suspiciously.

„We’re aware of that and the queen, too. But our majesty still wants to see him.“ Jon looked above his shoulder and shared a look with Tormund for a few seconds.

„Why now?“ Jon felt more confidence with Tormund behind him. He looked up at the grumpiest looking man he has ever seen. He almost looks like Stannis but with hair...

„Back off Wildling.“ A younger man hissed. But Jon knew that Tormund would never listen to such a young boy who hadn’t ansinge hair in his face. How old was this guy? 17? 15? He knew his friend. He would try to scare him and as the red giant wanted to go passed Jon he stopped him with a hand on his chest. Jon doesn’t want another confrontation between northmen and wildlings because these guys wouldn’t hesitate to kill or punish Tormund. They are proud and not like his guards.

„Sansa wants to see me? Why now? She never-...“

„It’s the queen, who wants to see you. Show some respect, bastard.“

„Ha! You better show some respect, green boy!“ Tormund glared at the young man, who grabbed his sword with one hand at the giants sudden loud words. „He was your king and saved your little asses when you just-“

Sometimes Jon enjoyed his friends harsh words, but that wasn’t clever now. Especially not now. „Tormund...“, Jon whispered. He looked at his friend and pleaded him with his eyes. _Not the time..._ They continued to look at each other.

And after Tormund nodded another one began to speak. „He‘s the halfbrother of the Queen. I‘ve heard that he killed-“

It was a rider in the back of the small group but Jon couldn’t see him. He only heard his voice...well, until he was cut off by the old man in front of Jon. „I don’t care what you heard or not or whose queen he killed.“ The leader looked above his shoulder and glared at the other man. „The Bastard is coming with us.“ He turned back around and stared at Jon. „...and I‘m not asking just as nicely again.“

Tormund waited patiently for Jon to decline, but he never did. „I‘m coming with you but I need some time to pack my stuff and...“ _Oh Jon, you fool..._

„You don’t need anything. Just a good horse and something to eat.“

„Then I‘m-“

„We are waiting for you.“ The six riders turned their horses and left Tormund and Jon in the middle of the castle courtyard.

„I have a bad feeling about this, Jon.“ He really had. Why would the queen want to see him? Neither had she mentioned him before nor had she asked Tormund about her brother...or cousin or halfbrother or...whatever. And there were many opportunities on his monthly visits in Winterfell for their meetings. Once or twice he had mentioned Jon in front of the queen but she never paid any kind of attention to it. So why now? And why hadn’t Jon refused?! He couldn’t understand Jons longing to reunite with his family. The forgot him. They locked him away like an wild animal, at the end of their world. How could he be foolish. Why was he so fucking naive?

„Jon?“ But his friend left him too and walked towards his tower. _Perfect..._

But what else was there for him to do? All he could do right now is standing back and watch his friend leave. Jon Snow was surrounded by northmen as the wooden gates closed behind him and Tormund turned his horse and left through the northern Gate.

**____________**

She needed some time until her sight wasn’t blurred anymore and she recognized the individual clouds in the white sky. Still dazed Daenerys Targaryen turned her head to the side...she smelled ashes and burned earth. She opened her eyes again and saw her naked with goosebumps overdrawn skin of her arm...which laid on burned earth...

After some more time she felt cold air brushing her skin and felt something colder under the back of her hand. Slowly she turned her hand and took a handful of the cold...when she turned it back she was holding ... snow? Bewildered she watched how the snow slowly melted between her fingers. 

There was no snow in Meereen. There wasn’t even much rain...but it would never snow. Never. Horrified Daenerys eyes widened as memories flooded her mind. But this time they were her own. Drogon attacked the Second Sons. Drogon took her in his claws. They flew above water. But where are they now? She couldn’t remember a place in Essos where snow fell...

Daenerys sat up quickly as the memories came back. But she moved too fast and she felt a painful sting in her abdomen which made her hold her stomach. It was the same pain she felt outside of Meereen. 

Thanks to the strong sting the ability of feeling her limbs returned and now she was able to really feel the cold temperatures and her numb thighs.

After some time the strong sting eased but it never fully disappeared. It was still there though now it was more bearable. 

But it gave her time to look around. In the distance was a white forest and the tops of white mountains which disappeared in the thick clouds in the sky. 

And above her was a heavy breathing Drogon. He laid to her side on the burned ground. His hot breaths blew the ashes in her face but warmed her at least. But every time he breathed in Daenerys felt colder than before. 

She gasped as her abdomen constricted again and pressed her legs to her chest and closed her eyes. And then the pain eased again...

When she looked up again she saw Drogons half opened eye... „Drogon...? Where are we...?“ but the Dragon whined instead of answering her. Of course he wouldn’t answer, she knew that. 

Carefully Daenerys got up on her feet but pushed her hands on her thighs to have something to lean on as the pain became stronger again. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Drogon taking in her smell on the height of her belly but Daenerys ignored him, or at least his head and looked at his body instead. There were some fresh scratches on his chest and his rips could clearly be seen through his thick skin. He was emaciated and way too thin... it shocked her. Never before has she seen one of her dragons in this state. And when she looked back at her son she could see in his eyes how tired and exhausted he was.

His head fell back to the ground and he blew out a breath...and closed his eyes.  Only a few seconds later he suddenly opened his eyes widely and lifted his head before he gazed out into the distance. 

„Drogon, where am I?“ Daenerys wanted to know. She needed to know. But Drogon stared into the white distance. His thorns on his head moved slightly as he listened attentive to his surroundings. 

Daenerys slowly walked to the end of their little snowless nest and followed Drogons gaze. But she couldn’t see or hear anything. Now she realized they were standing on a small hill. At the foot of the hill was a tree line which marked the end of an endless forest. But to say that the mountain was the only clearing in this forest would fit more. 

Everything was white. And as Daenerys reached the end of their little nest out of ashes she realized that the snow would have reached her knees. 

No, nowhere in Essos would be this much snow...or snow at all. Only in...in Westeros.„Drogon...please tell me you didn’t-“

But at once Drogon turned his head and sniffed the cold air. Daenerys didn’t smell anything of course, only the cold if the cold had a specific smell, but she heard voices in the forest beneath them. And they became louder while Daenerys and Drogon stared at the tree line.

She could feel her heartbeat in her whole body...it was strong enough for her to forget the painful sting for a few moments. 

She knew there were people, but she still gasped as they saw five men leaving the forest and plodding through the knee high snow.

_ Wildlings _ _._ They wore, thanks to the cold,frozen furs and skins and carried spears and bow and arrows as weapons with them. One of them carried an eviscerated deer around his shoulders...

_ Oh no...go away... _

Drogons lowered his head in front of her and snorted. Of course he would smell the blood of the animal. She got nervous. Would her son attack them for the fresh meat? He was clearly hungry all he needed was his instinct taking over. Or would he attack them just like he did in front of the walls of Meereen? 

But then he growled and put his wing between Daenerys and the wildlings to keep her away from them...or to hide her? She couldn’t tell. 

But she obeyed and hid behind his big wing. She didn’t know what else she could do. Gods, she doesn’t even want to be here. All at once the pain became to much and she moaned painfully. She tried to keep her voice low, maybe the wildlings didn’t hear her, but Drogon did. 

She didn’t know if he did it because of her or out of other reasons but the snatched at something. The loud sound of his teeth clapping together pulled their attention on them...or just Drogon. 

She heard their frightened gasps and their voices as they yelled warnings at each other. 

As sting eased Daenerys came out of her hiding place and faced them. 

The wildlings just stood at the feet of the hill as if they were frozen and stared up at Drogon who still growled at them. He didn’t move either, nor does his mother, but he slowly moved his long strong tail through the powder snow behind him like a cat before it attacked its prey. 

He wouldn’t attack them,...would he? They didn’t do anything to him...she didn’t give a command. She didn’t say _Dracarys_ ...but none of those things happened when he attacked the Second Sons... Maybe it was because of her, maybe he felt her pain and thought they did this to her...  But he was just an animal! A rare animal. And intelligent! At least that’s what some maesters say.  But he’s just an animal!

Slowly, aware she could cause anything, Daenerys walked to Drogons head and immediately smelled the gas. „Don’t... Drogon, everything is alright.“, she said as she began to caress his big head. 

It worked. Her smoothing words and the feel of her hands brushing his scales calmed the big Dragon down. He still stared at the wildlings but his big red eyes searched hers more often. „I’m here. Everything will be-...“ 

„Watch out!“, Daenerys flinched at the sudden shouting behind them. She needed a moment to realize what just happened, but it was long enough for Drogon to free himself and turn around to where the voice came from. He roared as he saw another group of wildlings who just came out of the forest on the other side of the hill. But instead of staying calm like the others they ran around and shouted warnings at each other.  Until one of the first group yelled: „Stay back!“, and everyone froze again. 

Drogon turned his head and body, refusing to leave just one of the foreign people out of his sight. He moved relentlessly until he took a few steps back and turned his body so he was able to see both groups of wildlings only by turning his head at little bit. „Drogon don’t...please.“ but her son roared all the same to keep the humans away from them while he tried to push Daenerys back beneath his leather wing. But Daenerys refused to hide. 

„Drogon, no! Everything is alright, you don’t have to-“, she tried to reach for his head to calm him again but Drogon didn’t listen.And the situation got more and more tense by the second. „Drogon...“ He just wouldn’t let anyone come close to them. 

_ He‘s afraid...just like I am.  _ But Drogon was never afraid. He wasn’t scared of the Warlocks if Quarth, or of Kraznys mo Nakloz of Astapor...and definitely not of a few men... But she hadn’t been afraid of those things either before until- ...but she was someone else now. Or something else. Maybe Drogon felt the same after-..

„What are you doing?!“, the sudden shouting pulled Daenerys back into reality. When she turned around she froze. One of the wildlings, an archer, was about to shoot an arrow at her. 

„Put that bow down!“ 

Daenerys couldn’t move. Neither to jump out of the way nor to hide behind anything. She just stood there and stared at the sharp arrowhead and forgot everything around her. She didn’t hear the shouting of protests which were yelled at the archer neither did she hear the typical hiss above her. Everything was far away. 

Is that it? This is how she dies? The last member of her family out here in the cold, surrounded by strangers and snow? 

_ Shagga son of Dolf: „How would you like to die...?“ _

Daenerys had always imagined it differently. She thought she would die in the battle of the Long Night and she would have died proudly protecting the ones she loved. After her real death she just felt in pain. And when she almost died just a few months ago again, she was some kind of disappointed in the way she would have been gone. But now...she felt dissatisfied...empty.

Daenerys didn’t react. But Drogon did. He opened his mouth and released a hot beam of fire onto the people. 

„Watch out!!!“

The flames burned its way through the snow and set the first lines of trees on fire.

„Aaaaaaaaaahh!“ 

But Daenerys couldn’t hear any of them at all. The voices in her head started and became louder by the second and Daenerys pressed her palms to her ears. But it didn’t help.  She still heard the screams of the wildlings which combined with he sounds of the men, woman and children in Kingslanding. 

Out of nowhere they appeared and made Daenerys lose her orientation for a few moments. She had her eyes and ears closed but it didn’t make any difference. She bumped into Drogons hard chest while she they voices carried her away. And for a glimpse of a moment she was totally lost. She didn’t know what happened around her. Nor what was in her head or around her. She heard a pained dragon roar and thought it was Drogon.  „Drogon!“ But it wasn’t him... And he roared at the sound of his name.

In the end it was the painful sting in her abdomen that brought her back...and when Daenerys opened her eyes she was no longer standing at Drogons front. She stood behind him on her side lashed his tail powerful through the snow. 

The sting was still there and it got stronger again, but Daenerys ran back at her sons front nonetheless. 

Everything was on fire. The tree line burned and the snow visibly melted away.

On the ground was a burning body...

But the Dragon refused to stop breathing fire around them. The wildlings were gone. 

_ Tyrion: „You told me you knew what your father was....“ _

_ Aerys: „Burn them.“ _

_ Varys: „I beg you your grace, do not become what you’ve always struggled to defeat.“ _

_No...not now..._ But before she got carried away she began to speak with a shaky thin voice: „Dr-..Drogo.n...Drogon! No! Drogon, stop!“ It was quiet at first. Her dry throat only brought out a whisper but her last words were loud enough to make her son stop. He growled at the burning ground and bared his long teeth.

_ Missandei: „Dracarys!“ _

_ What have I done...I really am mad...I burned inno- _

A sudden cough beneath them let her look down. One after another more wildlings rushes out of the burning forest and threw themselves into the snow. 

Drogon growled again and pressed his head into Daenerys embrace but she just walked passed him to his wing where she used the boned beneath the leather skin as stairs and climbed on his back. 

They had to leave. Now or more people get killed. She had no control over him anymore ...and Daario was right. It was not like last time. 

Daenerys climbed further up on him, still trying to ignore the permanent pain in her stomach. But as she reached one of the spines on his back the pain all of a sudden felt like someone was putting several knifes in her stomach and upper thighs. Pain spread all over her body and made her stop on the only a few inches beneath her seat on Drogons back. The pain didn’t ease. Not this time. Instead he became stronger. And Daenerys couldn’t bring herself to move. 

She knew that pain...she knew it too well.  No...it can’t be . She looked down on herself and saw for the very first time the blood on her dress and on the inside of her coat.  No please don’t... 

Daenerys took a deep shaky breath and closed her eyes. _It can’t be. ...Not again. Please not again..._ Her grip closed around the spine and Drogon moved beneath her feet. But Daenerys didn’t realize that. 

_ Mirri Maz Duur: „When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.“ _

Daenerys didn’t even notice her own words saying the words in her head out loud. 

„When the seas go dry, when the mountains blow in the wind...like leafs.“

A tear slipped free and fell on his dark scales. Drogon roared and pulled his mother back to him. 

„Everything’s alright...“ slowly she opened her eyes and continued to climp on his back. But the pain was just too strong and, in addition, her vision got blurred. Black moving spots covered her vision and made it almost impossible to see anything.

Drogon moved again but Daenerys refused to let go of the spike „Everything’s..al-alright...I-..I just need-“

He roared again but the sound of it was too far away. 

**___________**

No one planned to return to this place. No one...except vor Grayd. He was the one who stopped them only a few hours away from their home. And he was the only one of the hunters who wanted go go back. They called him stupid and crazy...even after he reminded them of the woman they had seen on the hill with this beast. He reminded them of the other group of hunters from another neighboring village. They had to look after them. But they refused. Especially the archer who brought them into this situation of a dragon burning down the whole forest and because of him they lost their deer. He just threw it away as he fled from the flames. 

But at least as he reminded them of the other group he persuaded one of the two spearwives to follow him back. She still called him stupid but came with him anyway.

He just had to know. Grayd has always been a curious man and that wasn’t always the best for him. But he needed to know. He had to see. Especially after everything he heard...

** *^* **

After a few hours on their way back to the hill Grayd and his companion reached the first burned trees. The fire has gone out but some trees still smoked a little bit. 

After the first fire attack the smoke accumulated in the Forest beneath the thick branches and snow. They had no other choice than to return to the glade at the hill. Everyone was unharmed, well someone’s coat smoked a little bit but that wasn’t their biggest problem. At first the dragon did nothing. He just seemed to search something desperately around him and then he breathed fire again without a warning, there was only a hiss, and set the rest of the tree line beneath the hill on fire. The flames and snow mixed and created more smoke but the fire was hot and strong enough to melt the snow away and burn everything to the ground even though everything was wet.

The further they walked into this part of the forest the smaller the trees became. Every thing was black and burned...everything had been burned down to ashes. They could see the hill, and the dragon with his leather wings on it, in the distance. There were no trees to hide them from it.

Maybe it was a bad idea. But they were not stupid. They moved against the wind and didn’t say a word...just like a real hunt. And when they reached the tree line beneath the hill the trees were nothing more than small black stumps.

As Grayd looked up his breath stuck in his throat. There it was. The big black beast laid on the top of the hill. He was sleeping. Or something like that...hopefully he was sleeping. 

He could die at any moment, though he wasn’t able to tear his eyes of the beast. He should be scared... instead he was filled with wonder and awe as he watched the dragons slow and heavy breath. And he almost forgot what had happened here just a few hours ago...Maybe he was stupid. 

A low pipe caught Grayds attention. When he looked to the direction where the sound had come from the spearwife leaned above something a few meters away from him. 

And as he came closer he finally saw what laid on the ground beneath her...or who.

It was her. The woman with white hair and pale skin and blood on her thin dress.

„Is that...?“ she started but never ended her sentence. She didn’t had to. Grayd himself didn’t know for sure either. He never saw the dragonrider queen by himself. But he had heard of her white hair and of course her dragons. He saw them sleeping outside of their camp and breathing fire on the dark battlefield. And Grayd was grateful for a little light in that fight. „I thought Jon Snow-“

That’s the same thing he thought. Jon Snow killed the dragon queen after the Long Night. At least that’s what Tormund told them. Maybe he was wrong. They lived in the north, north of the Wall, and news normally didn’t reach them as fast as other people. Tormund was their only connection to the south, maybe he got mislead. 

Because Grayd saw her. She was standing on the hill stroking the beasts head. There was no way for her to be dead. 

„I...We- we should-“

„Grayd?“ The spearwife stared blankly above Grayds head. When he turned he saw the big dragon watching them. The big red eyes eyed them but the beast made no move to stand up. Or breath fire. He just panted heavily. 

But he could breath fire at any-..

„She‘s cold.“ The spearwife laid one hand hold onto the dragon queens neck, the other was beneath the nose. She must have felt a breath on her fingers because her eyes widened at somethings. „She needs-..“

„Aye, I know what she needs but-“

„What are we waiting for? Let’s go.“ In one swift move the woman threw the dragon riders arm around her shoulders and stood up. 

But the moment she touched the white haired woman the dragon growled behind them. 

Smoke blew out of the dragons big mouth as he growled and bared his teeth while he kept his eyes on the spearwife. 

The woman must have sensed his hesitation at the sight of the big beast because she said: „She saved us...it’s the least we can do.“

„Aye, I know! ...Tell him that.“ He pointed towards the growling beast. He roared but it wasn’t as loud as it was a few hours ago. Or was he wrong...

He cursed under his breath as he watched the dragon straightening himself to stand up. He hissed again but there was only smoke leaving his mouth. Grayd used that moment to send the spearwife away and watched the dragon staring at the moving women. 

The beast made a move to step forward he fell back to the ground with a loud thud. 

Grayd had already seen his thin body but he never thought the animal this weak. He tried to stand up again to follow his rider but he always fell back on the ground. He was like a injured dog who didn’t understand what was happening to him. 

_ He‘s helpless. No fire to protect it or keeping it warm... _

After a few times the dragon roared angrily and breathed smoke again..

He‘s truly too weak to breath fire.  And if Grayd looked around he understood why. But he also knew the dragon would die out here in the cold nights. And that had probably been the reason why he attacked them...he wanted their deer. 

The dragon fell back on the ground again and took a moment to catch his breath . And as weird as it might sound, Grayd and the Dragon shared a look...staring at each other. Just as the dragons head fell to the ground Grayd muttered an apology, he didn’t know why, before he started to follow the spearwife on their way. 

He stared at the burned ground as he walked away, refusing to look back at the now roaring dragon. He heard the sound even after he reached the end of the burned field. But the roars changed. They sounded more like horrified screams and reminded Grayd of a child refusing to let go of his mothers leg who was about to leave it behind to go a hunt. The dragon whined and made squealing sounds. But Grayd couldn’t help him. There’s nothing he could do. 

_ He’s too weak to even stand on his feet. He won’t be able to hunt for himself.  There’s nothing he could do. Only saving his rider.  _


	6. „There are ghost everywhere. We carry them with us wherever we go.“ - Jorah Mormont

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 306 A. C.  
> A few days later...

Her head hurt. That was the first thing she felt. The strong pounding of her head as if she fell right onto it. And the first thing she did...was to hold her forehead with her hand, feeling her heartbeat beneath her palm. 

Daenerys needed a few moments until she finally sat up. At first she expected the horrible pain in her abdomen...but all that was left of it was a small sting in her stomach. _What happened?_ The last thing she remembered... she was on a hill, north of the Wall, and she was just about to climb in Drogon to take flight... but where was the cold? Where was the wind? ...Where was Drogon? 

Now she noticed the voices in the distance around her and other familiar sounds...

At first she opened one eye then the other and looked around. Her vision was blurred at first and needed some time to improve, but then she finally saw where she was. Clearly she wasn’t on the hill anymore...but in a tent. There was a big basin of ember in the middle and here and there were many furs and skins laying around on wooden boxes and on the earthy ground.

If the air would have been stuffy instead of chilly Daenerys could have thought this tent was a Dothraki home. 

Sometimes her vision got blurred again but after she blinked it got better. Now she did it again, and firstly thought she saw a ghost after her vision got cleared. ... Maybe it is just a dream.

Next to her sat a small boy on his legs and looked at her attentively. He was young, maybe six or seven years old, his long black hair was tied back in a long black braid...his eyes were just as dark. But instead of riding trousers and leather he wore frozen skins and fur and thick boots. Daenerys had no idea how he would have looked like today if he had lived...but to be honest this boy looked exactly the same way she imagined her first born...well, not as pale of course and in different clothing... Would Rhaego look like- 

„You have strange hair?“, the boy stated. His sudden childish voice surprised her. „Just like the hair of my mothers mother, before she died. But you are so young.“ Maybe it was just an imagination... That’s what she thought as he spoke, and rubbed her eyes. But he was still there. „Who are you?“ Daenerys opened her mouth to answer him, when a sudden loud noice of falling metal filled the tent. As both of them turned their heads they saw how one pot after another and some stinging horns fell to the ground. „What are you doing?!“, the seven or six year old boy stood up and went to the disarray at the other side of the tent. But Daenerys didn’t didn’t pay any attention what he was saying or to whom he was talking. She just leaned back down on her elbows and closed her eyes for a second or two. 

_ Jorah: „What have you don-“ _

But a loud squeaking cry interrupted Jorahs voice and filled the tent. And as Daenerys looked at the source of the noise her breath got caught in her throat. The boy came back to her and carried a struggling, little bundle in his arms...A baby. The little thing was swaying with every step the older one took and protested loudly, until the older boy sat back down next to Daenerys and laid the small child on the ground next to himself. 

Daenerys eyes stuck on the little thing right away, which almost immediately but slowly tried to get up on all shaky fours to explore everything. 

Both, Daenerys and the seven or six year old watched him. The small thing had no teeth yet, but he still smiled, even after his failed attempts to crawl on his arms and legs away from the older boy, and closer to Dany. Every time he got on his shaky limbs he fell back into the older boys lab. „What are you doing again, huh?“, but the little boy just squealed and looked with his big blue eyes up to Dany. 

He couldn’t be older than 8 months...maybe six? He was still so young, his thin black hair was just about to grow out, but it was already long enough for her to see the little curls. ... and his eyes.... the eyes who were so similar to her own... 

Daenerys felt a warmth filling her gut..but also a painful sting that reminded her of how much he really was like her child...her boy..or girl...that he or shewould have been the same age...and probably look the same... That her child was dead. While this one was alive, and full of boldness as he tried to lift himself from the lab and to grab the fur blanket that was covering her body. 

He was so small. So tiny. He couldn’t even grab the blanket correctly. This could have been her child...if the things had been differently. 

Daenerys felt the urge to pull the blanket aside and look at her thighs to check if there was any blood...but she couldn’t do it. Otherwise she would have pushed the baby boy off of her, which now crawled over her covered leg towards her.

At first she didn’t notice the burning feeling in her eyes until her eyes became too watery so her sight got blurred. She blinked one time and the tears finally fell.

„Are you alright?“, the sudden question pulled Daenerys out from her staring. She looked at the boy...then back to the baby in front of her, who crawled the last few inches onto her belly. Daenerys ignored the little sting in her abdomen as the small one kicked and pushed himself on top of her. It was just so cute...she couldn’t do anything else than to look at it. Oh how the things could have been different...how they would have been... They could have had it all....she could have had them. _Everything...Everyone..._

„I‘m fine....“, was all she could say with a hoarse voice. Before she drowned in the blue depths of the eyes in front of her again. 

„Then why are you crying.“, her vision got blurred again as she watched the little baby which tried to reach for one of her silver looks. Dany blinked...and again her tears fell. 

„What?“, she closed her eyes for a few moments before she opened them again and looked at the seven or six year old.

„You’re crying.“, she wiped her wet cheeks. „People cry when they are sad. Why are you sad?“

„I‘m not sad ... I‘m...“  _ Grieving for my last life...?  _ „I‘m not sad. You...you just remind me of someone I once knew...“  _Somehow..._ „...you both.“ Dany smiled at him, but she couldn’t look into his suspicions eyes for too long, so she turned her attention back to the small baby...and a small smile spread on her lips. The little bundle was now laying between her breasts, playing with her hair...

„Where are they now...“

„They...um...are not here...anymore.“

„Where are they?“, but before Daenerys was able to answer, the tent opened and a fat, grimly looking woman with a long ash grey braid walked inside. Daenerys gulpedas she saw the old burn scar on the throat of the old woman. 

„Good you’re awake.“, she grunted and walked around the tent as if it was her own. 

„Can we help? We want to help!“, exclaimed the young boy while he jumped up, but the old woman ignored him. Daenerys in the other hand had no idea what he meant. 

But out of nowhere the woman cursed loudly as she she tripped over the spread pots and drinking horns. „Who did this?“, she yelled and the boy pointed directly at the little baby on Daenerys chest, which played with a short strand of her hair. „Clean this, and get out of here when you’re finished.“, the older boy said nothing. He just lowered his head and walked to the mess the little baby had created to clean it. He stacked the pots and lined the horns up on the fur on top of one of the several wooden boxes. 

„Good, now leave. Take your half brother and go. You’re not even supposed to be in my tent. Now out! And go directly to your home.“, she pointed at the entrance of the tent with her crooked finger and glared at the older old boy. 

„Do I really have to-“

„Your mother told you to take care of your half brother and not to linger around in my tent!“ 

„I took care of him.“, the boy pouted.

„But you weren’t supposed to walk around with him. Not now at least.“

„But, why?“

„You know why.“ 

„But we never saw the dragon.“ At this word Daenerys eyes widened. Drogon! Where is he? Is he looking for her? Is he hurt? Does he need a-

„Go!“ The unexpected loss of weight on her chest shook Daenerys free of her thoughts and she watched the now again kicking and squealing bundle being carried out of the tent. 

Daenerys kept listening to the cries of the baby until someone pushed a bowl, filled with stinking liquid, into her hands. „Now drink this.“

„What is-“

„Seal fat soup. You’re emaciated, my dear. Drink it and you’ll get better.“, Daenerys smelled on it and frowned. It reminded her of the smell of black sausages. But at least it tasted better than the sausage of the Dothraki. It was a lukewarm soup with a strong taste of flesh. 

Under the hard gaze of the old woman she drank the soup, but as she wanted to lower the bowl again the woman lifted it with her fingers to make sure she would empty it. Almost immediately the old woman refilled the bowl and looked at Daenerys until she drank it. But this time she hesitated before she drank. „Our hunters drink it before and after a hunt when they won’t be able to eat for a few days....it’s for boosting. And emaciate men get to drink it, too. They put on weight in a very short span of time and become stronger again. Now drink.“ Daenerys had no idea what it was made of but it left a slippery feeling in her mouth. 

Daenerys hadn’t even swallowed the last gulp of the strange soup when the woman took the bowl from her hands and placed it next to Daenerys head end on the floor. „Now sleep. Sleep and drink.“ That were her last words before she left Daenerys alone. 

** ^*^ **

Every time she woke up in the last few days, the old woman was already waiting for her. She filled her bowl with the soup and waited for Daenerys to drink it before she refilled. Then she left. 

But this time she wasn’t there when Daenerys woke up. The tent was empty and a cold breeze came in through the open entrance. Almost immediately goose bumps erupted on her free skin and Daenerys pulled her fur blanket up to her chin as she laid back down, turning her back to the entrance and facing the tarpaulin. 

She tried to sleep again but then she heard a familiar voice and opened her eyes again. 

„HA!“

She recognized that voice not immediately. Because the last time she heard it it was influenced by wine.... But she still knew that voice. It was one of the many in her heads.

„Where were you!“, hissed a woman’s voice. It was the old grumpy woman who makes sure she drinks this soup. 

„I came as fast as I could.“

„And?“

„And...?...Jon is exactly were he wants to be. With his family in his home.“ There was a pause... und Daenerys waited...even though she didn’t want to listen. But they must have stood near for her to hear it above the noice level of the village around. _ He lives... _ Daenerys felt something tighten in her gut

„Jon Snow made an oath...you told us-“

„Yeah, I know what I told you. But he left again.“ A pause. „Is it true? What the raven said? Is it really her?“ Daenerys heard how someone pushed the skins of the tent entranceaside...she froze. But no one walked in. 

Tormunds looked into the tent of the healer. He had to make sure he didn’t come here for nothing. And even when he couldn’t see much of the small figure under the thick fur blanket he recognized the mop of silver hair which could clearly be seen at the head end of the bed.  „How can it not be her?“, the voice of the old healer pulled his attention out of the tent...back to the old woman. „Grayd and his group of hunters saw her and her beast. Or do you think they are liars?“

„No, but I‘m still asking. Because she should be dead. Jon killed her after she...“  _...killed an entire city. _

„And she tried the same with the hunters.“

„What?!“

„And still Grayd visits this thing at least two times a day.“

Tormund needed a few moments to realize what she is talking about. „The thing...? The dragon...! Where is it? ... the dragon, where is it?“

„He’s still there. But if you want to know further things...you have to talk with Grayd.“ A pause. „I‘m sure he has one of his stupid ideas...again.“

„Perfect...“ Daenerys heard the skins of the tent being pulled aside again, and again no one walked in. But this time she clearly felt someone’s eyes on her back. But she still refused to move an inch. „And how‘s she after...“

„She’s fine...now. Let her sleep. She was very weak back then...after her...“ 

„Her what?“

„She had a miscarriage.“ And there it was. The inevitable truth. The confirmation for her that she killed another one of her children. Slowly Daenerys pulled the blanked over her face, hiding it to the world and surround herself with darkness. She curled up like a ball with her legs pressed against her chest and her nose buried between her knees. „I don’t know maybe it was her second oder third moon...but she had a really rough reaction to it. I don’t know why but... She was very weak...just like her dragon.“

„She was what?“, Jons friend sounded like he still couldn’t believe what he had just heard. But she didn’t want to hear it again. She just couldn’t... She pressed her nose into her knees and closed her eyes tightly. 

„She has a miscarriage, Giantsbane!“ If it was even possible, Daenerys shrank more into a ball...and somehow her hand found her now empty lifeless belly.

„Is it possible that...that is was...?“ And again, Tormund opened the tend and looked inside. But this time he wanted to go in there but the grumpy woman pulled him back out, before he had even the chance to put a foot in the tent. 

„Hey! Stay out of there Giantsbane. She’s been through enough! Now let her sleep.“ Someone sighed.

She couldn’t believe what just happened. Does he really think it is- was... his? She couldn’t cry. Daenerys had already shed enough tears the last time...even month after...she had cried enough. And now her eyes were dry

„That doesn’t answer my question.“

_ No it’s not his! It was never his...I didn‘t take its life. He did! He gave me the one thing I thought I could never never have and he took it from me...again... _

** ^*^ **

„You really want to do this?“ 

„Yes.“ Even though Daenerys answer came fast and without hesitation, the old woman shook her head disapprovingly. But Daenerys didn’t care. She just had to leave this tent and do anything else than just laying around and drinking soup. She got stronger every day and so she spent less time sleeping every passing day. So she was awake...and alone with her thoughts and voices which were louder than ever... Especially his voice...after she had learned of his fate. „Where are my clothes?“ Daenerys stood there, in the middle of the tent, wearing nothing but her fur blanket. She had been here for at least a week and not until now has she cared to ask what happened to her clothing...

„Ashes.“

„Wha-“

„They were dirty and torn and burned in some areas. There was no other use for them.“ The old woman’s voice sounded as indifferent as always. „And of course these small dresses are way too thin to keep you warm outside.“ Daenerys looked down on herself. She had to admit that it was really cold up there on the hill. „I have an idea.“ When she turned around she found the old woman rummaging through the wooden boxes until she turned around and held some clothes in front of her. At first Daenerys didn’t recognize them without the snow and the frozen fur but as she looked more closely she realized it was very similar to the clothing she wore...and almost every other wildling she saw. There was a coat with a hood out of animal skin and furs and thick stuffed boots...made of the same material. „Put that on.“ 

It has been almost five full days since Tormund returned from the Wall and he had was...busy. One first day he had to ride to a neighbored village to talk with a group of hunters, on the next and following days he was he was hunting with other wildlings. Because of the one hard truth... winter is back and especially now they needed tons of meat to feed the people of the village... and some special guests. And now the old woman wants him to take a walk with the Dragonqueen. 

Of course he was happy for every kind of distraction from his bad feeling of letting Jon leave south. But there were still some moments where it was impossible to not think of Jon or the Dragonqueen. He asked himself if it was Jons child...., if it was even possible...after he killed her..., or maybe that’s what caused the miscarriage?

Tormunds opened the tent one swift move and saw no one else than the Dragonqueen leaning onto the old woman while she put in her boots. She looked like one of them...just like he remembered her... but there were no braids, her free silver strands were in disarray and...  _Was her hair shorter? Did she cut it?_ Tormund couldn’t see it a few days ago, but now it was easy to be seen.  _ Her hair is shorter... _

She knew who he was. Tormund saw it in the way her eyes widened when she looked at him the first time...or she remembered who he was befriend with...

Daenerys was about to ask the grumpy woman beside her what this was about, but before she could even say any word she threw her braid above her shoulder and said: „You won’t leave this tent unless Giantsbane accompanies you.“ Daenerys frowned. „To make sure you won’t faint...here.“, the woman held a drinking horn towards Daenerys. She knew what was in there. She already knew the scent and got used to it since the whole tent smelled of it.

Daenerys took the horn and stepped outside into a trail in the snow. It was the first time she was outside of the tent for what seemed like to be an eternity...that’s why the cold air hit her like a slap in the face. Her nose and airways burned when she took her first few breaths of the fresh air and she was glad she wore this thick clothing. In that way she only felt the cold on her face.

In front of her was a thriving village, build of small cottages and tents and a big network of trails through the knee deep snow. The wildlings were all doing their daily work. Men carried spears and wood around using the trails, or chopped wood. A woman was sitting in front of her cottage, breastfeeding her baby pit in the chilly air, and a few other wildlings sat around a big fire, laughing and drinking of their drinking horns. The sound of screaming children who ran playfully around, filled the air. When Daenerys looked up she realized the small village was located in a valley, surrounded by tall frozen stone cliffs. But she could still see the tree line from the big forest at the top... But down here...she didn’t even see one single tree. 

Until now Daenerys hadn’t noticed...it was snowing. Tiny snowflakes fell from the cloudy sky joining the masses of snow on the ground. 

Daenerys slowly stretched her hand out and waited until one of the flakes landed on her palm...and she just stood there and watched....until the whole snowflake melted thanks to her body heat.  The _North was truly beautiful..._

„I‘m ready when your are...“ And together they started their walk. 

They walked through the village in silence. But that was okay, Tormund just followed her, and watched her how she explored everything and looked around. Gods, she even dodged the annoying playing children, which ran wildly around without even caring about the trails.

Somehow you could have thought she sees all this things for the very first time. She even seemed to be unfamiliar with Snow the way she watched the flake melt into her hand. But Tormund knew she had already seen snow in Winterfell. 

Even though he hadn’t talked much with her back then she also seemed to be different now. But that was probably normal... after everything that happened...

** ^*^  **

Every time Daenerys went for a walk she was accompanied by Tormund or the grumpy old woman, who still refused to let her leave the tent alone. 

But she never asked why... They didn’t trust her most likely... and she understood them completely. Gods, she couldn’t even trust herself. But she was glad someone was with her... even though the old woman never really talked with her,...Jons friend, Tormund, spoke with her. And most of the time his voice was loud enough to drown every other noice around them. It made it easier to ignore her own voices which became louder every day... Sometimes they were just too much. She couldn’t listen to them or understand what they were talking about... She was alone. Left alone in this tent, only with her voices to accompany her... Even though she tried to listen to the wildlings around her doing their daily work, or tried to remember the things she did on her walks. One day she played with the Rhaego-like boy, and on another one she saw Tormund and a group of wildlings leaving the village, carrying deers or boars and other dead animals in their arms or on their shoulders...and torches...at daytime..? But before Daenerys had the chance to ask any question the old woman went on and took Daenerys with her. All she could do was speculate why they would have the need of burning torches during the day.

Today she was accompanied by Tormund. „You know how to ride?“ They stood between two tents and stroked the three horses which stood next to each other, all lashed to a fallen tree. 

„Why wouldn’t I...?“ Daenerys looked at him, curious at what answer she might get. But Tormund was obviously taken aback by her question and needed a few moments to finally answer.

„I don’t know...I mean,...Why would you ride a small horse when you could ride a giant dragon and fly through the sky.“, she smirked.

„Believe it or not but I once rode a beautiful silver... long before my dragons were born.“

„And then they ate them...“, Tormund said, but most likely more with himself than to her. He just said his thoughts out loud... 

But Daenerys couldn’t help but laugh at this nonsense. „What? They weren’t bigger than a raven...eating a full horse would have been impossible even for three baby dragons.“

„I can’t imagine him being this small. A raven, you said...? How could a giant like your black one be the size of a fucking raven?“ 

_ Tormund: „...who climbs on a fucking dragon...“ _

_ Tywin: „... the size of an apple.“ _

_ Viserys: „... dragon.“ _

_ Tyrion: „Dragons...“ _

_ Grey Worm: „...dragon...?“ _

_ Aemon: „...dragons.“ _

_...  _

Daenerys ignored the sudden voices and tried to concentrate on Tormund and his moving lips. But she failed. His voice became quieter by the second until it was completely gone...and in her head Daenerys found herself back in Kingslanding, the Red Keep...in the throne room. 

The warm sun sparkled through the colorful windows and she saw a small blonde boy sitting on the Iron Throne... A man, Tywin Lannister (She has never seen him, but recognized him and his voice nonetheless)... he stood at the bottom of the stairs and Daenerys watched him as he walked up to his grandchild, talking about dragon sculls, while she heard other people people talking about dragons. Even though they were alone in the throne room, she heard the voices. And then she heard a deep loud roar which cause Daenerys to stumble back a few steps until she bumped into the side of one of the horses behind her. The animal snorted and neighed quietly behind her

„Dragonqueen, are you alright?“ Behind her back the horse became more restless by the second. It snorted nervously and pulled its head back as if it tried to free himself.

Daenerys blinked and found herself back in the snow. She also noticed Tormund who had grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her and after a moment his mute mouth movements were again filled with his loud voice. „Dragonq-“

„I‘m okay.“, she blurted and the red giant let go of her. „I am fine. Everything is okay...“ Suddenly the horse reared behind her...or at least it tried though it was still lashed to the tree. It nickered and kicked and started to make the other two horses next to him nervous, too.

Tormunds reacted fast and pulled her away from the animals which made them calm down...at least to stop rearing. „The horse clearly doesn’t agree with you.“

„I‘m okay.“ she repeated, as if this would make it more true.

„And the horse says no.“, he pointed at the horses which now seemed to slowly calm down though to the fact that they kept their distance to them. „Horses are sensitive. They feel when their rider is afraid, or aggressive, or in pain. Some animals have this ability...“

„I‘m okay. I just have...some kind of a...a headache.“ To proof her point, walked up to the horse and reached out with her hand. The horse stopped to take in her scent but began to snort as if it just breathed in some kind of pepper before it became restless all over again. 

Tormund waited for her to come back. He somehow understood her hesitance to talk with him... He was Jons friend. Though they never had a real encounter or really spoke to each other... or at least no one he remembered. 

And it must be hard for her to talk about it, at all...everything that happened. But doing this now, going back to the horses, just proves his feeling that something was off. 

Maybe it was just the miscarriage, or the fact that she died...a few months ago. Tormund had no idea if death changes someone, it had to, it somehow changed Jon...a little bit at least. Maybe right now she was in the same mood as Jon was after...his return... At this another thought popped up in his head:  _ Is she missing him as much as he misses her? _ That seemed real unlikely...Tormund couldn’t believe that. He killed her... Jon killed her. If Tormund was in her place he would have crushed Jons skull like a snowball. ...sometimes he even thought about it when Jon was in one of his depressed moods... „Sooooo...um..your Dragon was this small once...?“, he gestured with his hands the approximately height of a raven... but frowned. He didn’t seem convinced at all bay that. 

„We all started small once.“, was all she said. 

„Probably...I barely remember the time I was little. But you...“ His gaze ran up and down on her, ignoring her surprised raised eyebrows. „No, you couldn’t have been smaller than you already are.“ He made a face. And Dany smiled a little bit...though it disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

„Do-..Do you know where he is? Drogon, I mean? Is he alright? I haven’t seen him-“

„Hey, Everything is alright Dragonqueen. He’s alright. He’s calm and eating...and he’s getting better every day.“ Daenerys took a deep breath and a small smile appeared at the corner of her lips. Even though it was a small one...it showed real happiness. She truly loved those beasts... „But right now you have to get better, okay. Oh-“ He held up a finger, signaling her to wait, as he took something from his belt and gave her a...pouch. She already knew it was filled with this soup as she heard the splashing liquid inside. „Here. Even when you’re not sleeping all the time anymore you still have to drink.“ 

Daenerys took the drinking horn from him and drank the seal fat soup all at once. The cold liquid filled her stomach and made her shiver. Not because of its temperature but of the way it tasted. The soup tasted way worse than when it was cold and left a furred feeling on her tongue. It was just disgusting... she made a face and Tormund grinned at her unique facial expression. „Ha! Good?“ She shook her head. „Southerner...“ 

Both of them continued their walk in silence along the trails, looking around at old men and young and playing children where Tormund refused to dodge them when they ran across the village without even taking notice of the trails. But just as he was about to pump into one of them, Daenerys asked: „Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me. You don’t have to. My dragon attacked you. You have no reason-“

„You helped my people, well...and everyone else, during the Long Night. Even though you didn’t have to. And now we want to help you.“ She smiled...sadly and shook her head. „You don’t believe me.“

„No I don’t.“

„At least you’re honest.“

„I think you’re an honest man.“,  _ unpleasant honesty... _

„So why don’t you believe me?“

„I learned that I can’t trust everyone...even when I want to.“

„You mean Jon.“ She stopped and looked at him. She swallowed. 

„I’m talking aboutmany people.“

He was about to ask this one question: ‚Was it his child?‘, but this time he stopped himself before he did something he couldn’t take back. Instead he asked: „What happened?“, which didn’t address to this subject directly.

„Many things...“ At that moment was grateful for the other wildling who called Tormunds name, so he wouldn’t look at her and notice her watery eyes. She said those simple two words but heard Missandeis voice in her head saying them at the same time...

She just needed a few moments alone. Away from Tormund where she had no need in explaining herself to him...or anyone. Even though she knew it would things worse, she left him behind and went on. And she was right...it got way worse. She couldn’t hear any voice around her...or background noice...everything was far away beforeshe got carried away like a leaf in wind. 

** ^*^ **

The moment he saw Grayd he knew exactly what he wanted. Feeding time...

In that moment Tormund totally forgot about Daenerys and accompanied Grayd. Or did Grayd accompany him? He couldn’t tell. All this essays he wanted to join Tormund and the other wildlings at the hunts and the feeding but he was completely excluded by them. Even though he was the one who started all of this and brought the Dragonqueen back to the village. 

Man, he wasn’t even allowed to go anywhere near the old woman’s tent to look after the her. But Tormund promised him, to take him with them one day to feed the giant black dragon... and as he saw him with a freshly hunted deer and boar, he knew... today was this day. 

After he answered the wildlings burning question about the Dragonqueen, Tormund began to prepare Grayd for what to come „...Okay, don’t forget what I told you, alright?“ 

„Don’t talk to me, like I‘m some green boy who pisses grass. I‘ve already survived an encounter with this black beast.“

„Ha! Barely! And this time you’re with me, and I don’t want to survive just barely. Got it?“ 

They had left the village and walked down a big treeless hill to a white field on the other side of the valley. 

„Got it.“

Thankfully the snow never got deeper, thanks to the cliffs and forest above that protected the village from the worst storms. And so the snow only reached their knees. But the extra weight in their shoulders of the animals didn’t do them any favor. And out here were no trails to follow to make the way down more easy. 

They passed the hill and reached the white hilly field and so the other end of the valley. The end was marked by the high frozen stone cliffs which broke apart at one point and created some kind of gate where the wildlings were also able to leave the valley. But most wildlings preferred the smaller and shorter ways between the stones and roofs of the cliffs. ... and probably because this was the area where the dragon was. 

But today the dragon was nowhere to be seen. And that couldn’t be that hard observing the fact that he was black and everything around was full of snow. 

„Just stay calm and be careful. Don’t move too fast. Do you still still carry your weapons? He doesn’t like them, Ha, let me tell you that.“ he had learned that the hard way. But thankfully the dragon wasn’t able to breath fire back then...Tormund grinned behind his thick red beard and shook his head amused. He will never forget the beating of his heart as the dragon opened his mouth and and the release he felt as nothing but smoke came out. 

„Why are you telling me this? I‘ve already met the beast. I know what can happen.“ Tormund stopped and looked back at Grayd. „Ha! I know him longer than you do and...let me tell you that he‘s... let’s just say different. And of what you told me,...and what I saw when I fed him...I-..“

„Hey, I fed him first! Before you left me out, it was me who helped! It would have died the night we found them... days before you even came here!“ He made a pause for his ragging breath to calm, before he continued: „He‘s probably just afraid, or he wants to protect the white haired Dragonqueen from us. Because we took her and held her captive in this tent.“ 

But Tormund ignored the last one for he couldn’t believe what he just heard. „He is what?“

He stared at Grayd long enough that he clarified calmer this time: „You know...like wolves, they’re more afraid of you than you’re of them.“

Tormund barely know Grayd but now he was sure this wildling has never met Ghost. Gods, he would have ripped that boy into pieces... But even Tormund couldn’t compare a direwolf to a dragon. „You know that this is a Dragon. A dragon. Not a fucking wolf! And what makes you a dragon expert?“

„And what makes you one?“, shot Grayd back.

„I fought with them side by side.“

„Me too! And I survived an attack.“  _ An attack you caused. _

„But I also rode one. Ha! This one to be more specific.“ Tormund pointed at the empty field in front of them.

„Yeah, sure.“

„You’re a cunt, you know that?“ They started walking again, further away from the village. The Wind became stronger and hit them in their backs, but at the same time it made it easier for them to move forward. Finally they reached the end, in front of them were the tall cliffs and some hills and a few trees next to them but that was all. There was nothing else. Not even a giant footprint in the snow...he really wasn’t here. Normally the dragon already waited for Tormund and the others to bring him food. 

Oh, he still remembered the morning everyone panicked as the dragon was suddenly there. Out of nowhere he appeared sleeping between the hills. At least he and the others didn’t have to return to the hill anymore and just walk down to the other side of the valley. Thankfully the dragonqueen slept during this day when he firstly appeared. Tormund couldn’t imagine what had- 

„Let’s leave this here, and we go back.“, Gray was just about to lay the boar on the ground as something catched Tormunds eye.

The became stronger again, strong enough to blew the snow from the small hills around them. And then there was a big one right between the cliffs beneath the gate like gab...Tormund swore he had seen something dark beneath the snow. So he got closer. 

„Ah...Tormund?“, but he wasn’t listening until Grayd yelled. „Tormund!“

„Wh-“, he turned around annoyed by Grayd and glared at him. He stared at the ground behind him, horrified by something. But then Tirmund saw it, too. Something moved beneath the deep snow and grouted it from the downside. The more it moved he realized how long it was.The thing reached around them towards the cliffs and as Tormund turned and followed the line of grouted snow which ended on the big hill between the cliffs...and it too started moving. A deep grumble vibrated through the snow, even Tormund felt the vibration through his thick boots. 

Tormund stumbled backwards as he watched the movements of the hill. Something raised beneath the masses of snow, which now fell heavily to the burned ground underneath... as the dragon flinched and made its first moves to stand up. Both wildlings watched him pulling his head out from under his wing and shaking his thick muscled neck to get rid of the rest of the snow between the long red leathery skins along his neck. 

The long thing beneath the snow turned out to be his tail as the black beast turned towards them. He pushed first one then the other wing on the cliffs right next to him to straighten himself and stand up on his feet as he turned his attention to the wildlings who looked at him in awe. 

At first he looked at them from above and sniffed the air before he put his wings back down on the ground of the valley and came closer with this giant head of his. 

The deep grumble in the snow became stronger when the dragon lowered his head and gazed at them attentively. His suspicious eyes never leaving them as he came dangerously close. 

Grayd gasped behind Tormund, and pressed the heavy boar closer to his chest as the dragon sniffed on the red giant,

„Easy...easy.“ Tormund held his hands up in surrender, showing he wasn’t carrying any weapons, and slowly let the deer glide of his shoulders before he took a few steps back, leaving the dead corpse behind. 

But the dragon didn’t seem to care about the meat to his feet. His eyes followed Tormund for a while before he lowered his head, still gazing at the wildlings until he grabbed the deer. His sharp teeth sank into the flesh and with one swift move with his head he threw the deer into the air. His sudden fiery breath filled the air around them with warmth and roasted the still flying deer before he catched it and ate it all at once. He didn’t even care about the still burning fur or the cracking bones, he just swallowed. 

When Tormund looked at his companion, he saw how Grayd stared at the black...with his mouth open. They shared a look and he threw is boar towards the dragon which didn’t waste any time and roasted the pig right on the ground. 

But Tormund didn’t look at him. He had seen enough of the eating dragon to know what he‘ll do. No, he looked at Grayd to stared at the rare beast in awe and disbelief... But as he at once began to stumble backwards, Tormund frowned. 

When he looked above the shoulder he saw how the dragon came closer again. Grayd fell into the snow but was still backing off as the giant head came closer. „I-.. I don’t have any more.“, the dragon snored and turned his attention back to Tormund though to the fact that he was now closer to him than Grayd. 

But even as the dragon pressed his nose against his shoulder and sniffed on his hair Tormunf didn’t move. But he saw in the corner of his eye how Grayd was about stand up, „Everything is alright...just don’t move.“

Everything was okay for a moment. The dragon was calm, the snow stopped vibrating around his boots and Grayd finally stopped move... He felt how the heat of his breath warmed his frozen face. 

The dragon turned his head away from and looked right to the village...Tormund didn’t know what he was looking at but when the dragon turned his attention back to him he was confronted with the big red eyes... and he had to watch horrified how the wide pupils suddenly narrowed to a thin slit. „Oh fuck.“ 

The dragon pulled his head back and straightened himself o his full size again as he lifted his head. He stretched his neck and sniffed on the fresh air, the wind carried from the village above the hill. He made different sounds between a whine and a hiss before they became louder and he roared. The sound filled the valley and echoed through the whole north. 

People screamed in the village behind them, but the dragon didn’t care. 

He smells her...Does he smell her? 

At first Tormund thought that he would take into the sky flying towards the village and looking for the Dragonqueen, but the dragon did no such thing. 

He sniffed the air and began to shake his head violently and took a few steps back. He became restless. He turned around and whipped his tail through the snow before he roared powerful. 

Again people started screaming and when Tormund turned around he saw how the people of the village came to its border and watched them. To his horror, he has to notice how some of the wildlings ran down the hill towards them. 

And all he could think of at that moment was: _Where is the Dragonqueen?_

** ____________ **

_ Jon: „You’re my Queen. Now...and always.“ _

That was the first thing she had heard. The last thing she had remembered. Or at least that’s what she had thought. 

At first she thought it is a dream,...she had hoped for it. But it was no dream. She had never woken up. She never opened her eyes to find herself back on the ship to White Harbour. No...

The only thing she had seen...was nothing. She had heard voices and when she recognized her sun and stars she thought that’s it. She was finally seeing him again, but there had just been darkness and the loud voices which had made her believe her head might burst at any moment.

And then she had opened her eyes. 

At first she hadn’t even noticed hat her vision was blurred due to the immediate burning pain in her inexperienced lung as she took her first gasping breath. This pain had spread through her whole upper body and surpassed the burning of her wound beneath her heart so that she hadn’t noticed it at first. 

Her wide open eyes had burned as if she looked into the light for too long and they had needed some time before they could focus on one thing ahead. And the first thing she had seen with her own eyes was Drogons big head, looking down at her. His hot breath felt like the burning feeling of cold water on her skin as he took in her scent. But Daenerys couldn’t move. Her body had felt numb and it seemed to be impossible to even lift a finger. So she hadwatched him, hoping for the pain to disappear. 

Yes, Daenerys remembered everything. Every feeling, every thought and every sensation she experienced that night... everything.

She remembered the cold of the stone altar she had been laying on and her desperate attempts to sit up. But she had felt too weak to do so... just lifeless. 

She remembered a priestess face, Kinvara, and how she had tried to talk to Daenerys, but the Targaryen only saw her moving lips and hadn’t heard what she red woman said. 

Because it was this very moment when her head was flooded again with memories and pictures and voices. Things she experienced but mostly things someone else did. But that didn’t matter. She had experienced everything again but from different perspectives as it had seemed...but everything happened way too fast and mixed up that she barely understood a thing. 

But it all had ended the way it ended for her...she felt the sting beneath her breast. The burning feeling of something pushing into her heart. That was the first time her hand had found its way to her scar. She had hissed at the burning feeling as her fingertips had touched the rippled skin. It was a pain she had never experienced before. Her vision had became blurred again as she remembered what happened. Who had done this... maybe it were her tears after she realized what he did to her. He really...

But it was most likely due to the fact that her whole body was overwhelmed by everything that broke down on her. The voices, her pain...her memories...

It had been a priestess, Kinvara, who began shaking her as a weak attempt to keep her awake, before she got carried away like a leaf in wind. Kinvara hadn’t been successful if it hadn’t started then and there.

The feeling of a hundred knifes being stabbed into her abdomen and thighs several times had filled her lower body. This pain felt almost unbearable but at last Daenerys had finally sat up to hold her flat belly. But it hadn’t really eased the pain who was strong enough to make her eyes water. She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t hear anything but the voices...they had still been there and combined the pain combined had her lost her orientation. She lost her balance and fell of the altar...landing hard on her knees while one hand still held her pained belly. 

She remembered how she tried to stand up but failed miserably... something she was always able to do seemed to be impossible back then... Every time she had tried to stand up her legs broke away and she collapsed back on the stone floor. 

She had tried it a few times until she just kept crawling above the stones and then she had given up... and just laid there breathing heavily. But before she had the chance to curl herself up, she was pulled back up into a sitting position by a pair of hands on her shoulders. The pain spread into her whole body thats why she barely noticed how Kinvara leaned Daenerys body back against her chest and putting her hand over hers on the belly. Daenerys had felt too weak to resist her and so she threw her head back and rested it in the priestess‘ shoulder. 

She saw Kinvaras sad expression before the pain got unbearable once more, but the priestess held her tight to herself to keep her from curling up. 

She still remembered the unbearable pain combined with the loss of more than just a child. She saw the picture of her bloody thighs in front of her eyes. 

She remembered the young girls in red gowns which had come into the great hall and how they were immediately send away to bring towels and warm water. 

She remembered the tingle in her legs and the shaking of her hands. 

She remembered the salty taste of her tears on her lips...and the feeling of the hot blood dripping out of her...running down the inside of her legs. 

...And she still remembered the quiet sound of the priestess’ voice in her ear whispering:„Its fire has gone out, just like yours but the Lord of Light brought you back for a reason. That’s all that matters. You’re alive.“ She had held Daenerys’ belly and always repeated that the pain will pass, that it would be over soon and everything will be okay, as she cleaned her thighs. But she was wrong...it wasn’t over. „You’re the only one we need. You’re the only one that matters.“ 

_ Jamie: „Nothing else matters.“ _

Daenerys shook her head. A weak attempt to let go of these thoughts but at least an attempt to come back and out of her head. 

She felt the cold wetness in her cheeks...Gods she started crying when she thought back to what happened some months ago, but couldn’t cry now. Even though it was almost the same...she couldn’t cry. Now that she has left her head her eyes were dry as the Red Waste. Not this time. She had already shed enough tears on her way from Volantis to Meereen, or after that in the nights when she cried herself to sleep...or when she broke down in her chambers even months after that.

She had already lost two sons. Taken by those who she had trusted. And now... they are three. ... But no tears at all. Mayberry was because she had no idea she was pregnant...but that had also been the case a few months ago with-.. 

But it still felt different somehow. After her last miscarriage she just wanted to die...but now she felt no difference to the weeks before Drogon took her to Westeros. She felt empty...unaffected. Just like before...

It reminded her of Viserys death...and how she was disgusted by herself that she didn’t even shed a tear for her brother who took care of her all those years. Instead she had experienced a feeling of...safety. ...For her unborn son. She saw a future for him without her brother plotting around... And she herself had felt stronger and more self secure... but now she was still unsure, and afraid...

She didn’t cry for her brother. He was nothing to her after he threatened her unborn Rhaego, though he was family. And neither could she cry for her child now. 

What was wrong with her? She should at least feel sad about the loss...but she didn’t...she was just empty. There was nothing that changed for her...except for her to be back in Westeros. 

She didn’t want to talk about it when the old woman came into the tent and wanted to talk with her about it. But Daenerys didn’t even wanted to think about it at all, just leave it behind as hard as that might sound. But how would that work when she couldn’t leave her last painful memory behind...

Daenerys took a deep but shaky breath. He lived...Jon lived. He lived his normal life... in Winterfell as if nothing happened... as if they never met. 

After she had found out about him, she tried to ignore the painful sting that information caused in her stomach. But now... He lived... and he was happy. Maybe she was just envious that he continued with his life like nothing happened, or anger because no one seemed to care about punishing her murderer...

But the worst of all...she couldn’t do anything. He was still unpunished for-.. for-.. he-.. He killed her! And even though to the fact that she was alive there was nothing she could do. Daenerys thought about them cheering at him for killing the mad kings daughter... But the thought of him having a normal was was the thing that pained her the most. 

What was wrong with her.. She had other problems right now but can only think about Jon living his perfect life... How could he live while she didn’t even know how to survive a day? Why wasn’t he pun-

A loud roar filled the air but Daenerys never noticed that. It was only a distant noice in the distance...but she couldn’t tell what it was. She was just too far away with her head. What was wrong with her...

Daenerys stumbles through the knee deep snow and then suddenly stopped. She didn’t use the any trail around her ... she didn’t even noticed her leaving one of those trails during her walk through the village. 

Right now she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was to scream. She clenched her fists and noticed how she was trembling...but not because of the cold. Sometimes she realized how similar she could be to Viserys...more than she’d like to admit.  I am not Viserys... I‘m not like him... 

Daenerys closed her eyes and tried to push these thoughts in the back of her head. I am not him. And I‘ll never be ... I just had to be. She didn’t want to-

Out of nowhere someone pumped against her left shoulder from behind and shook her out of her thoughts. The wildling grunted an apology over his shoulder but continued running as if nothing happened.But now that Daenerys was ‚awake’ she noticed how other wildlings ran into the same direction. Spearwives and small children who followed their mothers even though they were told not do so and stay behind...but they ran into the same direction like all the adults nonetheless. 

And them she heard it him. _Drogon..._

Daenerys followed the wildlings through the village until she reached the last line of cottages and tents. But all she could see were the backs of wildlings. 

They were all standing close together but Daenerys started to push herself past them as she heard screams of men and a loud thundering roar. 

But what she saw made her froze in the spot. She and what felt like every other wildling of the village were standing on the edge of a big hill and watched what happened on the other side of the valley.

There was Drogon...he was surrounded by a few dispersed men who quickly backed away from son when he roared at them. 

_ Jon: „Amazing thing to see.“  _

A small smile appeared at the corner of her lips...but not because of what she saw but because of who she saw. Drogon was fine...he was alive. And looked healthier and stronger compared to him back on the hill. But this small relief didn’t last long. 

Drogon snapped at one of the wildlings to his side who thankfully avoided the attack. But it made the people around her scream in fear as if they were the ones down there with the dragon. 

As Daenerys watched she wanted to know what happened at first but shortly after she felt a small drag on her trousers and look down. 

There was the small six or seven year old boy from the tent who relentlessly pulled on the furs of her thick winter trousers andlooked at her...with scarred brown eyes. „Why is he doing that? Our hunters didn’t do anything wrong.“ The high pitched cry of a baby filled the air and as Daenerys looked up her eyes immediately found the source of the loud noice. The small baby was crying while he was rocked in his mothers arms.  He’s afraid ... but the mother just stared horrified at the black monster at the foot of the hill. 

Daenerys gaze wandered back to Drogon as he roared again...but he sounded different. Like he would call for someone... but no one could understand him. _And no one will ever be able to._ _ He’s alone...the only one left...like I am. _

„Why is he doing that?“, tried the young boy to her feet again. _I don’t know..._ but Daenerys didn’t even dare to say those words out loud.

But in that moment Daenerys made her first step, stepping out of the first row of wildlings. Now everyone stared at her, but Daenerys didn’t take a note of any of them. Her gaze stuck on the last lifting thing that always stood by her side...

And then she took her second step. And another...and another. And somehow she started running down the hill through the knee deep snow. 

_Daenerys: „zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor“_

She ran too fast down the hill so that she stumbled over her own feed at some point which made her fell and roll down the rest of the snowy hill. 

_ Daenerys: „A dragon is not a slave.“  _

Just in time she landed back on her feet and continued running as if nothing happened. She ran through a white field approaching Drogon and the wildlings to his feet in the distance. They were all staring at the monstrous dragon in front of them as they kept their distance. 

_Jon: „Gorgeous beasts.“_

At some point she slowed down again as she passed the men. Drogon saw her and stopped the moment he laid his eyes on his mother. His gaze followed every step she made even as she stopped. Daenerys now stood between the wildlings and Drogon. He did nothing...just standing there and watching her. 

_Daenerys: „They’re not beasts to me.“_

At least a hundred pair of eyes watched them, but Daenerys only cared about Drogons. Though she recognized Tormunds red hair out of the corner of her eyes. 

_Daenerys: „No matter how big they get how terrifying to anyone else...“_

She slowed down again to approach Drogon like he was some kind of a shy deer...but he stayed calm. His tale slowly moved through the snow behind him as his eyes followed her.

Tormunds couldn’t do anything but staring at her. She truly was the mother of dragons. Only a mother could calm her child this way...well, and a kick in the ass. 

Though Tormund wasn’t sure if he had seen right...  Where her cheeks really wet? 

_ Daenerys: „The dragons are my children and...“  _

Dany took off one of her gloves before she reached out her bare, shaky hand for Drogons head. „Everything is okay. We‘re save.“ Drogons suspicious gaze fell on her hand, he straightened himself and shook his head slightly as if he disagreed with her. But Dany came a little bit closer nonetheless. „We‘re okay.“ 

_ Daenerys: „A mother does not flee without her children.“  _

She wiped her still wet cheeks with her other hand when Drogon lowered his head towards her...and thankfully no new tears fell. Her hand met him half the way and she slowly started to caress his rough but warm scales just above his nostrils. He was so warm... warmer than the last time she touched his scales. 

_Jorah: „They’re not your children.“_

Drogon snorted and began to sniff her from tip to toe. And even now...he paid special attention to her stomach...before he started whining...as if he knew- 

Daenerys looked up at Drogon and into his wide pupils... „You knew...“, a small sob broke free of her. He did the same in Meereen...and Winterfell. „All this time you knew...?“  He knew it all the time...when she had no idea... „Drogon...“ 

_ Daenerys: „... they’re the only children I‘ll ever have.“  _

Drogon squealed again and pressed first his nostrils and then his complete nose against Daenerys side. ... and Daenerys pressed herself even closer against him.

Why did they appear in the worst moments...? And why was Jons voice the loudest of them all since she found out about his fate...? Normally his rough norther accent drowned in the other voices...but now he was there all the time. „All this time...you knew..“ a tear slipped free.

_Jon: „So you believe me then...?“_

Dany closed her eyes...and enjoyed the warmth of his breath and skin. And for once everything was like before,...before everything went to shit. For a moment she was back on Dragonstone...standing on top of one of the tall cliffs and taking a deep breath. 

But it was just a moment because shortly after she felt Drogon pressing his head with more strength against her side and she opened her eyes. Drogons looked the wildlings over her head and glared at them. She had to watch how his wide pupils narrowed dangerously before he began to growl... as it became louder as he watched them intently.

He lifted his head and glared at the wildling one last time until he pulled his attention back to Daenerys beneath him. 

_ Jorah: „They’re not your children(!)“  _

The sudden loud voice echoed through her head and Daenerys reeled and trembled for a second, holding her head with one hand. She couldn’t remember Jorah ever screaming at her... not like that. It still felt so real as if it really happened in that way. But Daenerys remembered how he really sounded back in Qarth when he said that to her after the Warlocks-

Out of nowhere she heard a hiss coming from Drogon who observed her attentively.Daenerys forgot about her thoughts that moment and reached out for him again to calm him down...or at least to bring him back in this more calming state he was just a few minutes ago.

But it didn‘t help the situation.... instead Drogon took a big step back. „No, don’t please...“ 

_ Daenerys: „Don’t do this please.“ _

_ Jon: „Please, Dany.“  _

„Please...“  _Not now!_ Daenerys had to watch how Drogon began to shake his head violently even though he paused a few times and looked at her. He even roared quietly while shaking his giant head... he almost seemed like he was in pain. 

_Jorah: „They‘re not your children.“_

Jonah didn’t yell with her this time. Instead it sounded like a pitiful sentence you say to comfort someone.  _ Yes, they were. He is. Drogon is my son. He has to be. Because he was the only one I ever got to hold like a child of my own in my arms. He’s the only one who was always there...the only one left for me. My last child. My son...  _

Drogon stopped. The only thing that was moving now was his long tail which whipped through the knee deep snow. But after a pause he stepped aside so that he was leaning most of his weight onto one wing. His gaze was still lingering on her...refusing to look away. But he kept his distance... 

_ Jon: „Who told you that?“  _

_No... no one but..._ All Daenerys wanted was for him to be quiet... for him to stop. 

_ Jon: „Your family has ...seen its end.“  _

_ Yes! Yes, it has! And whose fault is that!?  _ Dany schrie ihn innerlich an.  _ Because of you! You did this to me. You and your stupid family! You took Everything and everyone I loved and turned everyone against me...! _

Drogon growled. Daenerys had no idea if it was meant for her or not...but his eyes narrowed again suspiciously. The only problem was that Daenerys barely noticed this part of his body language. 

_ Jon: „I don’t know what else I can say.“ „...my queen.“  _

_Nothing! Just stop!_ She had heard enough of those words. And every time they lost more of their meaning. They were empty words...which only repeated themselves. The same sentences...the same worthless meaning. And now she had to endure them all over again. 

_Jon: „Nothing will change that.“_

_Please don’t. Not now!_ Drogon opened his mouth and a rattling hiss escaped his throat... but he didn’t breath fire.  When Daenerys finally looked at him...she gulped when she saw him... 

The cold winds blew again and Daenerys felt the cold on her cheeks. And as she touched them...she found them wet... drowned in tears. Tears she wasn’t even aware she had shed. When did she started crying again? She couldn't tell. 

Tormund had no idea what was happening in front of him. The Dragonqueen just stood there and the dragon watched her while every Wildlinge around here did the same. And some of the ones who were the closest to the dragon slowly began to back away as the dragon began to move again. Again he had shaken his head like he was smelling danger or something... and then he started to move from one leg to the other, he tossed and turned his tale but strangely...he refused to look away from the Dragonqueen. 

Grayd stood a few feet behind Tormund. The green boy even tried to pull him back on his shoulder to back away like everyone else... but the red giant shook him off easily without pulling all the attention to them. 

Tormund didn’t know why. But he want in the opposite direction. He took a step towards the queen and her black beast. He must be mad...or had a lack of survival instinct. Or maybe he was somehow infected by Jons tired mood about living. He moved slowly...or maybe not that slow because he was halfway there already... almost there...

But the dragon had already taken note of him and growled deeply as an answer to his nearness. Tormund even felt the sound through his boots in the snow. He stopped...and just stood there. 

This time it was the dragon to came closer. He walked around the Dragonqueen and bared his long sharp teeth. In that moment Tormund thought of the deer...and how this teeth sank into the flesh... Why did he do this? What was he thinking? Was he even thinking? _Shit-_

The rattling hiss came from his mouth and got louder and louder as the dragon came closer...

Why was he this way? The dragon was calm and... well normal in the last days. And now he didn’t stop doing...whatever he was doing by just staring at the dragonqueen. The beast just completely changed within seconds. Tormund didn’t recognize him anymore...and the dragon didn’t seem recognize him as well...or Grayd. Without the two of them...and a few other, but mostly the two of them the dragon would have died in the first night. They hunted for him and even made a fire to roast the meat for him because he was to weak to even breath fire. 

The dragon didn’t even attack any of them after everyone panicked about him being on the other side of the valley one morning. He was just there out of nowhere. One morning he was just there... thank the gods the Dragonqueen slept almost the whole day. It probably would have changed a lot of things...compared to how he reacts now. But back then he didn’t care about the village or its people. Though they made sure no one goes to this part of the valley. No one. No child or adult only Tormund and the few Wildlings who carried the meat....well and now Grayd too. Maybe it was him. Maybe the dragon recognized him as the one who stole the dragonqueen from him...

Maybe he was just...happy..to finally see his mother again...but why would he attack them? They didn’t provoke him, did they? Tormund knew he didn’t know much about those beasts and he had no idea what a dragon sees as a threat and what not but... Maybe a dragon didn’t need any kind of provoking... The last city didn’t do anything to provoke him and he burned it down nonetheless. 

_Jon: „Dany!“_

„Drogon!“, her dragon threw his head back and shook it. Smoke was blown out of his nostrils and and every time he tried to roar or snap at the cold air small flames escaped his mouth... 

_ Jon: „You’re my Queen.“  _

_ Am I? Was I ever!? You-..  _ She didn’t want to listen. She wouldn’t care... they were just there. Nothing more than lies... empty words. Promises who were never kept... and for what?! 

Her inner voice screamed in her head and filled her body with anger. He had deserved a punishment. He deserved everything she went through and more.  _Everything.._.

Daenerys totally zoomed out. She didn’t even notice how Drogon was about to attack Tormund, or how he was turning around and lowering his head. Only as she turned around towards him she faced him, he opened his giant mouth and roared loudly at her. Hot air smelling of gas and burned meat flew into her face as she looked into his dark throat. 

Daenerys stumbles back and slammed her hands over her ears to shut at least a little bit of his roar out. But it was still clearly to be heard even through her palms...she even felt it in her bones and made her whole body shake. 

But when it was over...everything was quiet. Even her voices. The first time in months...it was quiet...

Tormund had to watch how the Dragonqueen backed away holding her ears against the loud noise. He was about to run towards her but Grayd who had came after him, was now standing next to Tormund. He stopped him with a hand on his chest and pointed at the dragon. „Wait...look...“ 

Both wildlings looked flabbergasted at the dragon. After the beast had closed his mouth he didn’t do anything... He just kept staring at the Dragonqueen who had turned her back on him. „What...?“

Daenerys felt a light vibration in the snow around her feet...but she didn’t dare to turn around...or even open her eyes. Her heart was beating in her throat while a high pitched tone echoed in her ears. But she also refused to put her hands down. What was happening? She had no idea what was wrong...what was different. With Drogon at least. She knew about her changes but Drogon... Maybe it was because he was alone. Maybe he was overprotective of her after death. The priestess told her he wouldn’t leave her side after they took her into the hall... and he had stayed . Until he was the first thing she had laid her eyes on. But he didn’t know or did something after Jon- 

Her throat closed all at once. No, this was different. He was just as wild as in his youth but...different. He had never attacked her...not like that. Even though he succeeded in silencing her voices.... Jons was gone. For the moment at least... but right now it was silent. More than it had been when she and- 

_ Tormund: „Horses are sensitive. ....some animals have this ability.“ _

_ Tyrion: „Dragons are intelligent.“  _

_No he’s not-..He’s just an animal.. I can’t be_. Now Daenerys managed to open her eyes...it was still quiet... no loud roar behind her. Carefully she let her hands fall to her side and looked over her shoulder towards her son.  _ Could it be? _ Drogon stopf right behind her and looked at her. But he’s not a simple hor-

When Daenerys looked up at him he began to shake his head again but not as violently of course, before his gaze found hers again. 

_... He was restless when I was... He attacked the second sons when I was in pain because of-.. He attacked the wildlings on the hill when I was afraid... He is unsure of whom to attack...when I‘m angry... _ Dany swallowed...she just wished it wasn’t true.

_ It’s me. I am the reason why he is like this, why he attacks everyone...It’s all me. It’s just like with the horses...he feels me. My emotions...everything inside, just like them... And he tried desperately to avoid them...to ignore it...me. _

His pupils widened and narrowed again and again before he began to shake his head again.  _ He’s suffering...like I do... _

„Drogon...schhhh“, Daenerys tried to reach out for him but the more she tried to calm him...the more restless he became. At some point he shook his head too much which caused him to lose his balance. But he kept distancing himself from her even though Daenerys movements had already came to an halt.  _ I did this...  _

_ Jorah: „What have you done?“  _

_I-...I don’t know how I‘m-_ He growled at her and backed further away. „No, please let me help you...“, but how was she supposed to help him? She couldn’t even help herself and she was the source of all this. She had no idea how she would be able to leave this black hole without numbing her voices with wine. „Drogon?“, when Daenerys took another step towards him he hissed at her and took a big step bag as he glared at her. People screamed behind her in fear and when Daenerys turned around she found more people on the edge of the big hill than before. Now there were more wildlings than she left behind ...watching them. The high pitched tone in her ears subsided slowly and as it grew silent the screams of the people became louder.

They were too far away for her so see their faces but Daenerys already knew what she would find in them. Pure fright,...fear, horror...hatred. Something of that. 

As she looked around she saw the wildlings struggling at running up the big white hill to their families, which waved them to come back and yelled things at them she couldn’t understand. And all she could do was watch... 

Again she felt the snow vibrate and a light grumble behind her hit her back.  _Drogon wouldn’t- Or would he?_ Is he looking at them?  Slowly her eyes took in her surroundings as turned around. She saw Tormund,...Jons friend. He knew what she did...but he didn’t run away like the wildling behind him did. He didn’t move. He just stood there and looked at her. 

As Daenerys finally faced Drogon she saw him baring his teeth at the people... Their screams were so loud...somehow they mixed with the screams in her head...of the people in Kingslanding until their pained voices drowned the ones of the wildlings completely out. „No....“, a single tear slipped free and ran down her cheekbone. _It’s me ...I‘m the reason for all of this. And I don’t know what-.. It’s all my fault. I never wanted this...they helped us and we-.. I don’t know how-_

She didn’t know what to do... and with the loud screams in her head she couldn’t think...everything was just too much. Slowly she sank down on her knees where she felt Drogons grumble vibrating in the snow. Her upper body bend down and one hand moved forward to catch her from falling face first into the ground.  I did this... and now she heard other voices in her head but with the screams in the background 

_ Jon: „...melt castles and burn cities...“ _

_ Cersei: „You all remember the mad king.“  _

_ Aerys: „Burn them all!!“ _

_ Jon: „You’re just more of the same.“  _

_No... I‘m not._ „I‘m not my father. I‘m not Aerys. I am not my brother... I-.. I don’t-.. I am-..“ 

_ Jon: „...you’re just more of the same.“ _

** [Drogon roars] **

_ Daenerys: „Dracarys.“  _

_ No... I made a choice _ _._ She closed her eyes and held her bare palm against her face.  _ I have to calm down, or he...he- I would...  _

_ Missandei: „Dracarys!“  _

„Daenerys!“, Suddenly she opened her eyes again.

Tormund didn’t know what was happening in front of him. At first he had to watch the dragonqueen how she sank on her knees and now he had to watch the dragon who became more and more restless. He shook his head again, snorted and growled while he blew black smoke out of his nostrils.

But even as the beast began to tramp around she didn’t do anything to stop it even though she was right in front of him. But she did nothing. She didn’t react when Tormund called for her and didn’t even flinch as the dragon roared against her bowed back. It only made the people on the hill scream louder and the other run faster. But she didn’t even move a muscle. She can’t be okay at all. Something was off. 

Normally Tormund wouldn’t risk his life for that...but the dragonqueen didn’t seem to hear him, when he called her. ...He really was mad. He began to walk towards them very slowly but a he saw the dragon getting dangerously close to her Tormund decided to run for it before the dragon would stamp her. Repeatedly he yelled: „Dragonqueen!“, but it was a lost cause...she didn’t hear him above the dragons roar. 

All he could see was her for a moment. So he didn’t notice how Drogon caught a sight of him, running towards them. A rattling hiss filled the air right before broad hot flames hit the ground only a few feet in front of him. They melted snow and made the wet earth underneath smoke. All at once Tormund stopped to avoid the flames... And again the people behind him screamed louder but the dragons roar drowned them out. 

The fire appeared again as the dragon drew a line of fire and smoke around him and the dragonqueen. 

The ground smoked and the fading heat of the flames still filled the air around him. He couldn’t find the dragonqueen. He couldn’t see anything on the smoking ground... all he could see black beast above the clouds of smoke. „Dragonqueen!“, he tried again after the air cleared around them. She still knelt in the snow...maybe she rocked her upper body a little bit...but except for that she didn’t move. „Daenerys!!“ 

And all of a sudden her small rocking movements stopped. She straightened her upper body and laid both hands into her lab while she stared up. Tormunds gaze followed hers...she was looking at the top of the hill. The people who where no retreating into the village. 

As he glanced back at her he was met with her gaze,... and now he was close enough to see her red eyes...and the glow of the dying flames on her wet cheeks. Her eyes were empty and blank. And even though she wasn’t looking at him for long he clearly noticed that something was most definetly off and she was definetly not okay even though she had assured him that she was. Quite the contrary. 

Maybe he didn’t noced before but now he sees how much she really suffered. How tired she looked like...mentally. Tormund could have never imagined how much less she was of the queen he had met in Winterfell...or north of the wall on that lake. 

He didn’t know everything because of Jon who didn’t tell him every little detail, and he had no idea of what happened with her in the last few moons...but now he really understood that Jon wasn’t the only one who suffered by consequences... And somehow he had a feeling that she had it way worse than him.

Tormund watched her, standing up on shaky legs. And no matter how restless and wild the beast had been, as the dragonqueen tripped and fell he catched her with his head... and she landed just above his nostrils with her upper body. He held still for a moment and even helped her back on her feet, by lifting his head a little bit. 

Tormund observed Daenerys Targaryen as she disappeared behind the big leathery wing of the restless dragon. He walked on the spot and roared a few times but he let her climb on his back and taking her seat. Gods, he even turned his head to look at her curiously but that didn’t last long when he began to shake his head again. He turned his attention away from her...to no other person than Tormund. Why was this always happening to him? The beast lowered his head and moved threateningly closer towards him. His big mouth was half open... he could eat Tormund with one bite. But when he was close enough he stopped... The dragon reared on his two legs and took some steps back. 

He hissed and snapped at him as if he was protesting... but he still backed away like a horse when a rider pulled too strong on the reins.

And after he took one last step he jumped without hesitation and took off into the sky with only a few but strong and powerful flaps with his wings. 

Tormund heard how Grayd was yelling at the few people who still stood outside of the village. But he couldn’t understand him, even though he running towards him...but the wild roaring dragon who still rising up. 

It seemed like he was about to fly above the village... and Tormunds running feet slowed down until he came to an almost complete halt as he watched the dragon nearing the other side of the valley.  She wouldn’t...would she?

The wildlings has no idea what happened. And what was probably about to happen... He hadn’t told them anything of what Jon had told him.... of what she did with that one southern city. Most likely they wouldn’t have taken care of her if they had known. Especially with the dragon around. 

When Tormund looked up and saw the dragon struggling in flight. He somehow faltered sidewards but continued flying straight ahead...

But right in that moment they reached the village...or maybe they were already above it... the dragon roared and ducked with just one flap of his wings to the right...flying a safely steer clear around the village and this side of the valley. 

The people kept on screaming and yelling but the noice subsided quickly after the dragon was out of sight. 

Drogon roared in the distance even after they got past the valley. He was still a little bit hard to handle but all she could think of was: Not this time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make things clear: This is not what happened in 8x05


	7. „A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I‘ve heard it said.“ - Jon Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 306 A. C.
> 
> (At the same time...)

It was a beautiful night. Everything was black and the yard beneath her tower was clouded in darkness. 

The Queen in the North stood by the window of her royal chambers and looked at her castle in pride.

Everything was quiet. The cracking of the flames in her fireplace and the howling of the cold wind were the only sounds she listened to... It seemed like Winterfell was mostly extinct. The only life signs were the few lights in the small houses beneath her window. 

The nights lasted longer with every passing week and kept her people inside their homes. Close to the warmth...  Normally there were always at least four braziers spread around the courtyard to fill everything with light at night and spend the guards with enough warmth. But when winter came, they had to start saving the precious wood. The thought reminded Sansa to send more northmen into the Wolfswood to gather firewood. 

She held a pair of black gloves in her hands on front of her stomach and massaged the leathern fingers between her own while she stared at the world outside of her tower. She took a deep breath of the cold air and breathed it out into the night.  Her hands closed around the gloves as an attempt to stop her ministrations on the piece of clothing. Over time it had become a habit of hers when she was nervous or tense...which she has been for at least a few weeks by now. And it became worse with all the problems that surrounded her. 

At first there was the snow. The masses of snow. Winter was finally here. The winter her father had promised would come all those years ago. And now she had to prove herself as queen to her kingdom. She had to show them that they will survive this winter.  _ No weakness... _

Of course there were a few Lords which disagreed with her decision about the Norths independence. People who said that they wouldn’t survive any winter without help from the south... But here they were... And of course Sansa was totally aware of the difficulty of being independent...especially after so many wars. But they were still here. She was still here and proved every doubter to be wrong.  _Freedom is not easily won._ She was the first Queen in the North. And she will make it. 

But Sansa still had a bad feeling as she watched the falling flakes. She couldn’t understand it... The snow had already started melting but only a few weeks after the Long Night the snow started falling again...until now. And the white blankets on the fields and roofs grew again. 

But if winter carries on like this their granary would become dangerously empty. The people would get restless. Much more than they are now with all this snow surrounding them. It came to the point where some of them were afraid to walk around the courtyard in fear of the masses of snow falling from the roofs. Even though there was still too much weight on the flat roofs of the towers and houses. They even startet to push it down with shovels and sticks to keep the roofs from caving in. But more snow kept falling.Even in this very moment it didn’t stop snowing... and for the blink of a second Sansa just watched the thick flakes slowly landing on her windowsill like down feathers...

But her bigger problem was something much worse than the cold. And everything started with this letter... Sansa looked back over her shoulder to the letter which was laying on her bed...with Tyrions broken seal.  _It was really happening...?_ Her biggest problem and most likely biggest fear had come true... if those words can be trusted. 

Of course no one knew. And Sansa was sure not even Tyrion knew the full story. But it was better this way.  The whole North observed her and thousands of eyes looked at her every minute of the day since her coronation. Especially those of the people who were against the independence of their land. In this ways she at least had the chance to think of a good plan, a strategy to deal with this and to proof every man, woman and child that she was capable of being queen...that she could act like a queen and lead them through the winter. They searched for a sign of weakness in everything she did... especially her reactions. But Sansa wouldn’t give them want they wanted...she is queen.

That’s why she won’t be allowed to treat Jon differently than any other criminal she had faced before. He had to be just like them to her...no one... even though he was a member of her family.  _ No weakness,...don’t show them any weak spot. _

Sansa closed her cold hands around the gloves again and pressed the leather between her fingers while she took a deep breath of the cold night air. Why hadn’t he just listened to her...? If he had listened to her they wouldn’t be here...in this situation. Something she had hoped would never happen...

Sansa glanced around the castle, or the towers and houses she could make out in the dark. She took in the sight of everything she had achieved, everything she had protected,...her home, her goal...and everything was in danger.

In the first few months of her reign she was nervous. She planned for the inevitable. But with every passing week without any word from the south, from Bran, she began to feel save. The safety of being prepared for the worst case...but now she wasn’t ready, she didn’t feel ready even after months of preparations.  Not even the beloved view from her tower could calm her down. 

A sudden loud noice of laughing people filled the air and subsided after a few moments. But it caught her attention and made the queen look to her right...a small house with a few bright lights inside of it.  _Would they laugh just as much if they knew what is about to happen..?_ Sansa doubted that. But they couldn’t know.  _No weakness...I have everything under control._ She closed her eyes.  _ We are prepared for this _ , she repeated over and over again to calm herself down. 

Another laugh mixed with loud cheering and even clapping of hands echoed through the castle... And Sansas eyes snapped to a small house again. _What was so funny?_ She couldn’t believe there was anything this funny to make anyone laugh this loud...Gods the woman almost screamed. 

But then she remembered her own family dinners and festivities...in the days before her father rode south only to be beheaded as Hand of the King... At the time her family as at least laughed and toasted as much as those people. The adults had told jokes no one of the children understood back then... Sansa smiled at the memory of her laughing family members. But that were different times...

Another round of cheering, which remembered the queen of where she was and who she was. Sansa took a deep breath and her jaw muscles tensed.  _ Her family... _ She was queen now _. Everyone was gone...dead or had left... _

A loud horn blow filled the nightly air. It was something she had copied from the Nights Watch and introduced in one of her first weeks of her reign, to have a protrusion whenever someone arrived... but it startled her almost every time. 

She already began to unwind her black leathern gloves and put them on as one of her guards stormed into her chambers. He threw the door open, but Sansa paid no attention to him. She didn’t turn around not even after he began to speak: „ They...“, he swallowed against his dry throat and held himself upright on the door while his other hand held his side beneath his rips, catching his breath. „They are here,...your Grace.“

The queen said nothing. Instead she put one the second clove and plucked her covered fingers.  She had already learned that it was no good to think of old memories of past times. And with one last glance outside her window she turned around and left the smiling faces of her parents and laughs of her sibling behind.  N _o weakness..._ She took the letter and hid it beneath her waving coat while she walked past the snorting northman. „Have Jon Snow brought to the great hall.“ 

** _______________ **

Thanks to the wind they were confronted with thick snowflakes flying into their already frozen faces. It was already hard enough to see something in the darkness but thanks to the falling snow it was almost impossible. They moved pretty slow. It felt like the horses were tiptoeing through the deep snow even though their riders urged them to move forward. (They even turned their heads away from the storm which made them even slower.)

But they kept urging them forward. The men were riding for 8 days through the cold. Everyone was tired and cold and just desired to finally arrive. That’s why Jons new guards refused to open camp this night and instead urged everyone forward. 

As the green boy proclaimed that he had seen one of the Winterfell towers everyone happily started cheering. They were grateful and relieved...everyone but Jon. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel.

This should feel like a homecoming,...the final arrival after a long journey but he somehow felt everything except for relieve and gratefulness. Was it still his home? He couldn’t tell. It felt different compared to his last homecomings. After Ramsays defeat he was relieved and when he returned from Dragonstone he was excited...but that didn’t come close to the emotions that fleeted him in this very moment. 

Yes, he was excited. But it was a different kind of excitement. During their journey he had thought of things he could say, things he probably should ask to find out all the things the wanted to know,...but it felt like he wasn’t ready. With every passing day he became more nervous of what will happen. Especially when he was reminded by a small voice in his head refreshing Tormunds doubts. _I have a bad feeling about this, Jon._ The thought made his stomach cramp. He tried to speak with his companions about the reasons why the queen wanted to see him, but he was turned down almost every time. And the two northmen who answered him said both the same thing: They don’t know. Though he didn’t ask them any further questions and reduced their conversations to a minimum. Why would he? They were Northmen. Stubborn and hardheaded. They wouldn’t tell him even if they knew. So all he did was listen to their stupid talks during the day. How could he ignore them? He rode in the middle of them to keep him from escaping. 

When they arrived in front of the gate a men yelled something up to the guards on the wall...though Jon didn’t see or hear any of them. But shortly after Jon heard a loud creak behind the thick wooden gate before the door swung open and pushed the Snow to the sides and out of the way. The northmen which surrounded Jon urged their horses on and pushed Jons snorting horse forward through the gate and into the castle yard. H e heard a few voices of men until the sound of a loud horn filled the air and swallowed every other noice. The horses neighed and snorted at the sudden deep sound. Some men came into the courtyard and took the exhausted horses while their riders dismounted them. 

But Jon stayed seated. He took in the sight of everything. If felt like he had forgotten how big Winterfell truly was with his thick walls and sturdy towers, after living in a small wooden castle who had no real gate and whose walls bursted almost daily beneath the masses of heavy snow.  And the fact that everything was clouded in darkness made Jon think Winterfell was even bigger than the parts he could make out now. 

The only lights in the yard were two torches at the gate to the keep an a brazier beneath the wooden wall-walk which was surrounded by a few northern guards. They trembled and sat close to the flames as an attempt to warm themselves and as they caught sight of Jon they almost instantly stopped their quiet murmurings.

While his gaze wandered around the castle yard Jon noticed how some windows and doors of the surrounding buildings were opened. And everywhere he saw the dark outlines of people watching them. Some of them left their houses. Cautious men, women and even a few children, alarmed by the horn, wanted to know who had arrived. _Didn‘t they know who he was? Or did they just want to take a look at the bastard king?_

Jon jumped off his horse and caressed his long neck before it was pulled away from him. He wouldn’t give these people a better look of him by sitting on top of a horse. And to be honest, he didn’t want to seen them at all. Jon already knew what he would find in those faces. Disgust, anger... all the negative emotions towards a king who had bent the knee to a Targaryen...the daughter of the Mad King... Towards a king who threw the crown away they’d so generously pushed on his head. 

Jon just didn’t want to see it. He had already seen enough of it thanks to his better guards in Eastwatch and the northmen who brought him here. As if glaring at him would change anything. But thank the gods his companions surrounded him almost immediately and led him into the keep. _Good_ , he thought. He didn’t want to stay outside anyways with all these viewers and the snow melting in his neck. 

He knew the way. But the guards refused to to leave his side. With one guard on each side and the old northman in front of him leading them through the dark corridors. There was almost no light inside the keep but at the end of the hallway was a single torch who filled the small room in front of the big door to the Great Hall with warm light. 

Jon was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t notice how the man in front of him came to an halt to knock on the door. Jon bumped into him, and earned a dark look of the old northman. 

They paused for a second before they walked inside. The warmth he felt from the torch outside the door was gone. The fire of the fireplace has long one out. There were only a few candles who filled the hall with light but no warmth.

The deep voice of the oldest man echoed through the room as he proudly began to tell the queen of their journey... as if it was some kind of big achievement to escort an already imprisoned man. But Jon didn’t listen. No, he took in the sight of the one person who called herself the Queen in the North above the shoulder of the old man in front of him. 

Sansa Stark sat on an broad, heavy looking, and beautiful decorated wooden chair behind the long table Jon recognized as the table the Starks had always sat on. But all chairs and tables of his earlier days were gone. The only other seating possibility was a lonely chair opposite to Sansa in the middle of the hall. And the two tables were leaning against the walls to his right and left side. 

Sansa wore a thick coat and black gloves on her hands which she had crossed on the table. On her head she wore a silver crown...  _ She truly looked like a real queen.  _ But she didn’t look at him. Instead she paid attention to the old man in front of Jon who didn’t stop talking. Thankfully his men who flanked Jon were quiet. Just like Jon himself. Jon looked around the hall and was taken aback by the many changes since the last time he was in here. But he immediately turned his head back to his sist-.. cousin as she spoke. 

„Thank you, my lord. You can leave now.“ But Jons companions didn’t move a muscle. Sansa laid a paper in front of herself and took a white quill in hand. She didn’t look up, but seemed to feel their hesitation. „Is there a problem, my lord?“

„I-..your Grace, we can’t-...Are you sure.“ She looked at the old man. „We can’t leave you in here...with him. He is a-...“

„Queenslayer. I know.“ He swallowed at her expressionless face. Jon on the other hand flinched slightly when he heard this word from his own si-.. cousin! „You can wait outside the door.“  With that the northmen bowed their heads and left them. As the older one walked passed Jon he glared at him, but Jon just couldn’t keep his smug to himself. He even grinned a little bit as he watched them leave. 

He waited a moment after the heavy door is being locked behind them to turn around and face Sansa. But she had already started writing something on the paper and didn’t look at him. And now, without the old man in front of him blocking his view, he also saw a letter...with a broken seal in front of her. 

Jon wanted to wait for her to look up and talk to him to start a conversation. But nothing happened. So he just stood there...and did nothing. He just listened to the scratching sounds of the feather on the paper. _I have a bad feeling about this, Jon..._ Tension filled the room and the quietness was about to drive him crazy. „Where...“, he cleared his throat against his quiet voice. „Where is Arya? How is she?“

All at once Sansa stopped writing and the hall fell quiet while she stared at the table in front of her.  _How would she be able to tell him?_ Sansa didn’t know. She didn’t know how Arya was, where she was or if she was alive. She hadn’t heard of her or received any word for over a year...her sister. The one person who once said they have to stick together...that they were the last ones.  _ The last of the Starks _ _._ Though she was the first person who had left them. „Sansa?“

Now she looked up at him. For the first time in a year ...she looked him in the eyes. But she didn’t smile, or stood up to hug him or did anything else. She just sat there...on her wooden throne and looked at him. And the tension returned into the room. _Did anything happen to her? Was she dead and nobody told him...?!_ Jon felt his heartbeat in his throat and he became nervous. He didn’t know if he wanted an answer. But when Sansa finally answered him he couldn’t say that he felt any kind of relief. „I don’t know..just like you. I haven’t heard of her either.“, deep in thoughts she looked at one of the big windows. 

But Jon didn’t give up. „And you? How have you been doing?“ 

„I‘m good.“  _Not happy?_ „Why wouldn’t I be?“, she looked at him questioningly.  Jon was clearly taken aback by that. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth a few times to answer but no words left him. To be honest he had hoped for a conversation between them to develop for him to find out what she had done all the time during his absence...so he could find out why she hadn’t talked to- „Anyway...please take a seat.“ She gestured to the lonely chair in front of the desk. 

After a few moments Jon nodded and sat down. His cousin continued writing and didn’t look at him...again.  And that’s it? After all this time they couldn’t even have a normal conversation? She hadn’t even asked how he was. That’s definetly not the way he had imagined their reunion. He understood that she had to wear a mask as queen and everything but they were alone...no one was there except the two of them but she still acted like they weren’t. Like he was a normal criminal. 

It made him feel like he had interpreted way too much into this meeting...as if it was more important to him than it was to her...which seemed like to be the case here. Now he felt stupid for being this excited the first few days. Why hadn’t he just listened to Tormund.  Why was he even here when Sansa ignored him? He knew the always keeps something for herself and only tells as much as she want you know. She somehow reminded him of Littlefinger. _What was she up to?_

Jon stared at the moving tip of the quill and listened to the scratching sounds it made. 

„How is Eastwatch? Are the constructions on the castle completed?“

„No...“, she looked at him with raised eyebrows. „I-..I don’t know. Maybe...“ But the fragile castle didn’t look anywhere near finished. She lowered her head again. 

„And your Brothers of the Watch? Are they satisfied?“

Jon had to calm himself down at this phrase. They weren’t his brothers. And definetly not Brothers of the Nights Watch. They wore nothing black and had never spoken their vows. But the fact that she believed them to be ‚Brothers‘ offended Jon and every other member of the Nights Watch who sacrificed his life... „I don’t know.“ _And I don’t care_.

„Any problems with the wildlings?“

„I don’t know.“, after this she finally looked at him again. But this time Jon wasn’t as grateful about it.

„Why don’t you know these things? You lived there for like-“

„Because I‘m not as involved in those things as you might think.“ She stayed quiet and Jon continued. „I haven’t spoken to any wildling except for Tormund in the last year and I had other problems to talk about. And those named brothers? I don’t care about men who are but better guards.“ With every word his voice became louder. So he took a deep breath to calm himself down. „ And Eastwatch? We don’t have enough wood. And barely enough food for everyone.“

„I can’t send you more resources.“

„Then why are you even asking me this?“, he asked a bit louder than intended. Sansa wanted to say something, probably another stupid question, but this time it was Jon who interrupted her. „What is this, Sansa?“ They stared at each other.

„Excuse me?“

„What is this? Why am I here? Definitely not because you want to ask me a few questions you could have asked Tormund Andrew weeks ago. So why now? Why am I here?“  What do you want from me? But Sansa stayed calm.

„I know you must have many questions...and I will answer them. But right now there are much more important things I have to ask you.“

„And what is that?“, carefully Sansa put the quill aside and crossed her gloved fingers on the table. 

„Jon...“

„Just tell me...and be honest with me...“  . _..this time at least._

„Everything I did was to protect you and my people and-“

„Why have you send for me...after all this time you simply ignored my existence on the end of the world?“

„There has been word from the capital in the south.“, she swallowed visibly and glanced between her folded fingers and the opened letter to her side. Jon followed her gaze with his eyes. This time he was the one who swallowed. „Tyrion...he sent a raven.“ Sansa took the letter and turned it in her hand.

„What-..“

„Did you kill the Targaryen Queen?“ _There it was_. She just had to ask. She had to know...

She her pleading eyes found his in shock widened ones. _Did he just hear correctly or..._ „I-...I did-...I-...what?“ _No, she hadn’t, had she?_

„It’s a simple question. Did you or did you not kill Daen-„

„Yes, I know... I did understand you the first time. But why would you ask me that? You never spoke of her again after... Why now? She is gone...“, again he swallowed against the lump in his throat. „...dead.“ _There it was._ The hard unforgiving truth. But Jon saw in her eyes that it didn’t touch her as much as him.  _ Why are you doing this to me...? _

„That’s what Bran wants to know from you.“ Jon lowered his head and stared at his now trembling fingers.

„I know this might be hard for you.“  _No you don’t._ „But answer me. I have to know, before we head south.“ 

„No, you don’t.“ Jon finally found the strength to stand up. Was that really the only reason why she wanted to see him? Not for him but for this one thing he did...to ask him a question he had already answered...? He couldn’t look at her right now so he walked to the window and stared at darkness outside. But all he could see was the reflection of his own expressionless face.  _I have a bad feeling about this, Jon._ He felt empty. 

„Jon we ride south in the morning, you’ll have to talk about it anyway when we arrive.“ She spoke of it like it was something obvious...like they spoke about some sort of battle strategies and not a murd-... It made him sick. It wasn’t self-evident to talk about this...not for him at least. But how could she understand anything of him...when she refused to try to understand him in the past. „Jon.“

„Why?“, he turned around and observedher attentively. But Sansa just sat there. Gods she didn’t even try to be somehow empathetic. „Why has this any kind of interest in this now? Just...why? It doesn’t matter now...“

„Jon, could you please just answer me.“, he heard a small tone of annoyance in her words.

„What is it you wanna hear, Sansa? That I‘m a murderer? That I killed an innocent woman after all-„

„Innocent?“ She stared at him in disbelief.  Did he say innocent? Dany wasn’t innocent...was she? No, she was definetly not...or maybe?

“No, of course she was not inn-“

Suddenly the door flew open and Jon three northern companions came in...followed by no one else than maester Wolkan. It was as if they felt the sudden range of the two...but they had probably just heard their loud voices.

„Your Grace, I‘m sorry...we heard you-..“

„Don’t be. We are finished.“ Sansa stood up and gave the paper she had written on to the maester. „Send a raven to Kingslanding. Tell them we’re on our way.“ The old man bowed his head to her and left again. 

„And what about him?“ Jon was already surrounded by the three men who awaited the queens command. 

„Bring him to his rooms.“, she told the guards. „We ride in the morning. You should sleep, Jon Snow.“, was the last thing she said before she left the Great Hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest I‘m not happy with this chapter, but I‘m very excited for the following...  
> And now that my final exams are over and I‘ll have more time to write and translate.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by all the memes, critics and tweets of fans around the world and after almost a year I write this  
> So thank you to everyone oft there on Twitter and Instagram


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